The Courage to Stand
by mtinpa2005
Summary: Barnabas Collins meets a new love! Angelique and O/C included. Please Read and Review. I would appreciate all feed back. esp. negative Rated M for violence and explicit sex. Thanks to Helena Clara Bouchet for the title suggestion!
1. Chapter 1

A/N. This being more of a novel than a story, I will be introducing the main characters at the beginning rather than Barnabas Collins. As soon the heroine gets to states, Barnabas will make his first appearance. Until then, hope you enjoy and review. Rated mature for heavy violence and explicit sexual encounters. Want to read all feedback positive and especially negative. Thanks Lisa :)

* * *

Chapter 1

"Mon Dieu, I'd nearly forgotten!" she gasped standing in awe, transfixed by the enormous building. Rising like a goliath before her... _Le Chateau de Tell,_ the home she had known so intimately when she was a _petite fille_. Trembling, Kathleena drew her ermine cloak more tightly about her slim form. Why? Why was she now so hesitant, so... terrified to scale the steps and enter her sire's _maison_? Quickly, she realized, this suddenly imposing structure no longer felt like home, not her home. She'd simply been away for far too long. The questions that had constantly perterbed Kathleena over the lengthy years instantly returned to torment her mind. Why had father dispatched her to England for instruction? Why hadn't he simply provided her a governess? The hardened Jacques Tell had not even allowed his daughter to visit during holiday. Nor did he choose to visit her. Just a dutiful impersonal post once a month for ten years. Why? Did she remind her sire so much of that fateful day? Of Pierre? Immediately thoughts turned to her handsome brother, still fresh... _always_ fresh in her memories.

"No!" With a toss of her chestnut head, she brushed away a tear, denying the images that struggled tenaciously to draw her back into the past.

Was it folly to return? Right or wrong, it was far too late to second guess her decision. Here she was, on her sire's doorstep. Nervous and feeling like an unwanted relation, she marshalled her courage. With a deep breath, Kathleena lifted her skirts and ascended the expansive marble staircase. Closing her eyes, she silently prayed she was doing the right thing as she yanked the service cable, a welcoming sound resonated throughout the sprawling halls beyond. "_C'est lui,_" (This is it.) she whispered, her hands shaking in her warm muff as she heard footsteps growing louder, coming closer. "_S'il vous plaît_," she begged. Kathleena watched as the massive mahogany doors opened soundlessly on well oiled hinges and a wizened old man peered out, gaping at her curiously.

"_Bonjour Mademoiselle. _May I help you?"

Instantly recognizing Gibson, her father's butler with his shock of silver hair, Kathleena smiled. He'd changed not a bit in all the years that had passed but of course she had. Unable to suppress the bubbly giggle, the young woman couldn't help but tease. "_Monsieur_, you do not know me?"

With gaze narrowed, the servant examined the strange miss more closely. "_Pardon_, but I don't think…" Spotting familiar blue eyes, his expression quickly changed from utter confusion to surprised recognition. "_Mademoiselle_ Tell?"

Laughing breathlessly, Kathleena realized she was feeling so much happier than she'd been but a few moments ago. "_Oui_, Gibson. I have returned." As the servant stood aside in utter amazement, she crossed the entryway, removing her delicate bonnet and frowned, noting her father's conspicuous absence.

"Obviously, my arrival is a surprise…"

The butler nodded as he took her things. "Master Tell said nothing." How odd… Surely he'd received her post, having written him several weeks before her departure. Suddenly a dark thought occurred to her. Did father simply choose to snub her announcement? The old man watched as an expression of deep concern crossed her charming features. "Well, you needn't worry in any case, _mademoiselle_," he said, trying to reassure, "your sire shall truly be pleased to see you again."

Kathleena nodded, quietly murmuring to herself, "One can only hope…"

Leading his young mistress into the great room, the butler offered, "Perhaps you would care for some refreshments?" Instantly recalling the most delicious pastries fashioned by Madame Tucker, one of the finest chocolatiers in all of Europe, she smiled.

"Yes, please. Coffee, and perhaps one of those delightfully fattening chocolate croissants." With a curt nod, Gibson turned to do her bidding suddenly frozen by a single innocent question. "Where _is_ Father?"

Frowning, the servant shuddered. Had Master Tell informed his daughter of the new situation? If not, it wasn't his place. Uncertain how to respond, a fib quickly came to mind. With a clear of his throat, he said simply, "I believe _Monsieur_ Tell is… is in the vineyards with a new overseer."

"Of course," she said, waving him away. "_Merci_." Striding to a large ornate mirror, Kathleena critiqued her reflection and with a sigh began to pinch color into her pale cheeks. She'd changed so much through the years. Would father approve? Would he care? Jacques Tell was never a man of much sentiment. At least sentiment directed toward her.

Pausing to admire the stunning looking-glass, she ran a hand over the exquisite piece. Glancing about she smiled in pleasure. The whole room had been beautifully redone.

Shivering, Kathleena could recall how dark and dismal it had once been while she and Pierre lived here, played here. At that time, the severely furnished château was not designed with young children in mind.

Gone, were the thick window coverings that had muted any source of natural light. Now, lovely peach draperies enhanced the massive glass panes overlooking the east lawn. Draperies that were presently drawn aside to allow the midday sun to spill across the floors - hard mahogany floors that had given her many a bruised knee when Pierre had chased her down throughout the rooms were now adorned with beautiful Persian rugs. Comfortable beige loungers and wing chairs replaced the unyielding pieces of furniture that had once filled this salon.

Had father's tastes changed so much? Spying an attractive harpsichord placed gracefully before the hearth, Kathleena ambled to it, running long fingers across its keys. Suddenly the large doors flung open, crashing loudly against the walls. Startled, she pulled her hand away in surprise gaping as a young boy dashed in shadowed by an even younger girl.

"Charles, you clod! Give me my Emily!"

Holding the doll high overhead, he laughed mockingly, "_Vous devez attraper moi d'abord!_" (You have to catch me first!) Suddenly he froze, gawking at the stranger standing beside his mother's beloved instrument.

"_Bonjour_," Kathleena greeted warmly watching as the sweet little blonde sidled tightly against her much taller brother.

Quickly handing his sister her toy, the boy smiled shyly. "_Bonjour dame_. Are... are you here to see our mama or our new papa perhaps?"

Blinking, the young woman was taken aback at his words. Their new papa? Surely she couldn't have heard correctly. Or... perhaps... these children belonged to one of the servants. Staring at the pair, Kathleena quickly turned her attention toward Gibson stepping into the room with the food tray, frozen as he overheard the youngster's innocent remark. So, it _was_ true. Taking a calming breath, she sank to her knees before them. "Well, I must say this is a rather unexpected but wonderful surprise. It seems that I am your new sister."

Choking back a sob of anguish, the teenager moaned finding her face held tightly between two small curious hands. Holding her breath she watched as warm brown eyes stared raptly, examining every detail. Finally, the little girl nodded as if reaching some conclusion.

"You've papa's eyes."

"Indeed I do," she smiled, exhaling slowly. _Mon Dieu!_ The pain... the sorrow... Quickly she brushed such thoughts aside. "I am Kathleena."

The boy added timidly, "I am Charles; this is my sister, Charlotte."

The servant watched as his mistress bounded youthfully to her feet brushing away an errant tear. "Would you care to join me for a treat, children?" As they obediently followed her, Kathleena turned at their unchildlike silence. "You needn't be frightened of me. I've only returned home this very day, having studied in England for many years. Have you ever been?" Charles shook his head.

Hopeful to engage them, she prattled on. "Your…parents, they must take you very soon. It's so beautiful," she sighed wistfully, "particularly the Thames." Their unrelenting quiet was discomforting. _Well, so much for conversation... _Choosing to serve the children herself, Kathleena waved Gibson away. Breaking her croissant, she handed them each a half.

"_Merci_," they said politely. Smiling over the rim of her cup, she watched as they happily munched on their goodie.

A man's deep voice, warm and rich resonated from far down the hall and Kathleena stood at the sound. _Father,_ she thrilled, her heart skipping a beat. _Father!_

Suddenly her handsome sire and an elegant woman appeared at the doorway and immediately Jacques Tell's pale gaze flew to his daughter. "_Mon Dieu_, Kathleena!" Nearly crying in surprise, he rushed to her, abruptly drawing up short... remembering. "_Ma petite fille,_ you've come home!"

She couldn't help but blush, pleasantly surprised, as he beheld her loveliness. She'd expected his sorrow or his anger upon her return, never such a loving show of admiration. Although she was certain he wouldn't, Kathleena longed for her father to take her into his arms. To enfold her after their many years apart. No, she knew it was much too much to expect. Jacques Tell had always been so careful never to touch his daughter. Even when she was a child.

"You are truly a vision of beauty, _ma Cherie_!"

Glad that her sire thought so, Kathleena found herself suddenly speechless and could only nod in thanks. Glancing over his shoulder, she added with a smile, "I understand congratulations are in order."

Standing in the doorway, Madeline wore a look of sincere puzzlement. Her handsome husband had spoken of his only daughter with such fondness if not without an air of misery. Why had he not embraced his child? There seemed to be no disagreement between them and yet she appeared to accept his actions to be the norm.

As Jacques held out his hand to her, she came to stand beside him. "Daughter, this is my wife, Madeline Dubois Tell. Maddie, Kathleena. You have, of course met Charlotte and Charles."

Noticing her new mother's anxiety, the young woman took hold of her hands and kissed her cheeks, putting the her new stepmama more at ease. Kathleena however trembled with knowledge, with misery, a sob lodging in her throat.

Jacques, suddenly uncomfortable with his daughter's peculiar behavior, suggested, "Perhaps you would care to bathe before dinner? Rest?" The utter relief in Kathleena's eyes caused him to quickly turn away; a sharp pain twisting in his gut. "Gibson shall show you to your boudoir…Gibson!" he bellowed.

Kathleena frowned. This was the father she truly knew, the man she had remembered, expected. Angry, Emotionless. Why on earth had he changed so suddenly? What had she done?

"Show my daughter to her room, if you please…" Jacques said stiffly. "It matters not which." The butler nodded and Madeline jerked at the sudden harshness in her husband's voice. The group watched as he retreated down the hall and slammed the door to his study; strong emotions of grief and guilt overpowering him.

Never having witnessed his employer behave so callously, Gibson found himself at a loss and quietly addressed his mistress. "Follow me, _s'il vous plaît_."

As the pair climbed the winding staircase the young woman paused, turning back to her new stepmother.

"Please... allow me to offer my deepest sympathy to you and your children," she said sadly.

"Whatever for?" Madeline asked, lifting a silver brow.

"_Vis-à-vis,_ the tragic loss of your husband and son."

Nodding slightly, the woman acknowledged her kind words of condolence. Following the pair with her gaze, a suddenly stunned Madeline was left to wonder how Kathleena had come learn so quickly of deaths of her cherished family members.

* * *

She sighed with delight as she sank into the copper tub, the steaming bathwater engulfing her. Gazing into the flames that crackled loudly from the hearth, she frowned. "Father, what is troubling you? Why won't you tell me?" Kathleena whispered, her blue eyes narrowed with concern and more than a bit of curiosity.

Ever since she had first discovered her strange ability, Jacques Tell had continuously been a mystery to his daughter. Refusing to allow himself to touch or be touched by her, he was infuriatingly impossible to read. Kathleena felt utterly hopeless. Despite his unexpected words of admiration, her sire was obviously aggrieved that she'd returned. He did not want her here.

Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the tub's rim, a tear sliding down her cheek. "No," she groaned, flicking it away. She was not one of those simpering ninnies she'd been forced to endure at school. She would not cry. She would go to him; demand to know what he was keeping from her.

Determined, Kathleena washed quickly and slid into a smart light blue gown that matched her eyes. Heading to his study, she prayed her father would still be there.

* * *

Jacques sat in a huge leather chair placed before the fire. Staring into the flames, he swirled the brandy around and around in the glass, scowling as he drained the amber liquid, glad to feel the burn sliding down his throat. He truly hoped to get roaring drunk. He could not deal with the truth... could not face Kathleena. With a frown, his thoughts turned to his beloved child.

Why had she come back? In his mind's eye, he envisioned her long chestnut curls, full soft lips, a small body with a miniscule waist. Yes, she'd indeed become a fetching beauty. Other than her eyes, which were as pale as his own she looked very much like Marie.

_Marie! _Picturing Kathleena's mother, Jacques growled with fierce hatred. If she'd not died in childbirth, he vowed he would've killed the she-devil himself. Standing, the Frenchman paced about the room, growing angrier by the second. "Damn you, you bitch!" he roared, viciously smashing his snifter against the wall.

A sharp gasp of surprise drew his attention to the doorway. Kathleena stood there, her arm raised to protect herself from flying shards. She watched him, her delicate brows furrowed with concern.

_Dear God_, he thought shaking his head as he stared at his creation, _how could I ever tell her?_

As she stepped into the room, Jacques frowned. "Father, please," she begged. "What is it?" Attempting to place her hand on his arm, Kathleena winced as he evaded her touch. "Please!" Jacques could hear her utter distress; her longing, her need to be held, to be loved by him. Shaking his head in despair, he merely stood at the window staring out at the gardens. "Father, I believe I finally understand you. You are frightened of me or rather, of my ability. I'd grown up thinking you did not love me enough to show any physical affection toward me. Frankly, I was jealous of Pierre and his close relationship with you. But I now know that that was wrong of me. In truth, you are afraid that if I touch you I will learn what you are keeping from me." She came to stand before him. "Father," she moaned wretchedly, her voice hardly above a whisper, "Please do not hate me, I did not choose to be this way."

He looked to her then, shocking his daughter. He was such a large man, a strong and proud man, his tired eyes now brimmed with unshed tears. "Kathleena," he choked, a lump clogging his throat, "Despite my disgraceful actions, I _do_ love you; I have _always_ loved you, _ma_ _chérie_. Never doubt that, not even for an instant..."

"…But, be that as it may, you wish that I leave." Kathleena said quietly, forming the words that hung unsaid between them.

Jacques nodded his face twisted with incredible sadness. "Yes, I'm sorry… but truly, you should not be here. I'd received your letter but thought had I not answered, you would not have returned."

Although she had expected as much, Kathleena nearly sobbed aloud at his blunt statement. "I will not presume to understand. This is your home and I have no choice but to obey you, father." Staring at his daughter, Jacques' heart constricted painfully at the utter sadness in her voice. "I only ask that you tell me why I have been unable to touch you all these years, why you had sent me away..." Kathleena sniffed. "Please... I must know."

Dejected, Jacques collapsed into his chair, the burden he carried within too great to endure any longer. Lowering his head into his large hands, his strong shoulders shook with grief. "My daughter, my beautiful daughter… I tried... but I failed."

Slowly, hesitantly she wound her arms about him, closing her eyes as the vivid images instantly engulfed her.

A sleeping newborn. A dead body covered with a sheet. A beautiful blonde woman with icy, piercing eyes. Suddenly, Kathleena realized the infant in the vision was she, the blonde woman, a stunningly beautiful but malevolent witch who had given her the rare ability she now possessed... but why? Instantly the visions changed... A man, impossibly handsome now stood beside the woman, blue eyes as cold and as piercing as hers. Kathleena knew instinctively that he was the woman's son. She shook her head, having the oddest feeling of recognition. She knew him, met him somewhere before. But how? Where? Suddenly she began to tremble as the couple glared at her brutally, viciously... especially the man. Cold eyes filled with dark rage; filled with hatred directed towards her and her alone.

"No!"

Gasping in horror, Kathleena pulled away from her father. The man in the vision was... was her betrothed?! How can that be? Although the images faded from her mind, there were still so many unanswered questions. "This is utterly impossible!"

Jacques choked back a sob. "My darling, forgive me!" he blurted imploringly. "I cannot free you from this ungodly situation."

A tremor coursed through her at his mysterious words. Dear Lord, what monstrosity was she about to face? Kathleena looked down into the roaring fire. "You will tell me... all of it." At his silence, she turned to him. "Please father, I must know."

Looking at his daughter, Jacques realized it was time. This was her life; she had the right. He had to tell her... everything. Motioning for her to sit, the Frenchman stood and began to pace. What the hell was he going to say? How was he going to explain? The tale, the situation was so preposterous. He took a deep steadying breath and gazed at her. Kathleena sat on the divan, looking up into her sire's handsome face. Resolute, she was determined to know all of it; no matter how dreadful.

He strode to the bar and poured her a drink. "You may need this." When she refused, he downed it himself; seeking courage perhaps? Cringing as if in pain, Jacques sighed. "It is long and complicated, _ma_ _chérie_. You will find it impossible to believe, as did I, however, every word I am going to tell you is the God's honest truth. It all began before you were born. Unbeknownst to me, while we were expecting your arrival, your mother was secretly participating in the black arts." At the stunned look on his daughter's face, Jacques quickly continued, "It was during these practices that Marie had met a… a..."

Unable to force himself to say the word, Kathleena looked down at her hands. "A witch," she supplied quietly. At his nod, she continued. "This witch… she was the one who has given me this ability? To intimately know a person?" Sighing at her father's abject misery, she realized the telling of his long hidden secret was difficult enough without her interruptions. She willed herself to remain silent. However, his next words brought her boundingto her feet in an instant.

"This woman has a son. Your mother swore that were we to have a daughter, our children would marry on your twenty-first birthday."

Kathleena gasped in outrage. "No!" For the first time, despite her earlier vision to the contrary, she refused to believe it as fact. Surely she was mistaken. "I cannot even begin to imagine this! Witches do not exist! They are figments in fairy tales, not actual physical beings!" And yet... how else could she explain the ability she possessed. No one she'd ever encountered touted such a skill. Kathleena glared at him then, her pale eyes narrowing. "You allowed this?" she hissed, shaking with the very thought.

He gasped, horrified at even the hint of her accusation. "_Mon Dieu_! You must believe me," he begged. "I had absolutely no idea." Walking to his desk, Jacques removed a portrait of Pierre from the wall to uncover his personal safe. He began to twist the dial. "Before she died, Marie gave me a document," opening the door, her father withdrew a thick packet, "it was a promise, signed in blood...her's and Angelique's." At his daughter's raised brows, he added. "The witch, Angelique Bouchard."

_Angelique Bouchard._ The woman from her vision.

"…Blonde and beautiful with icy blue eyes…" Kathleena remarked softly.

Jacques looked at her. "_Oui_." Handing his daughter the evidence of his tale, he watched as she paced the room; carefully reading the damn document, dissecting every word.

Placing a quivering hand to her temple in disbelief, Kathleena spun about. "Father," she said desperately, "I am nearly eighteen years old... soon to be an adult in the eyes of the law. Certainly I have a say in this!" At the sad shake of his head, she added nearly beside herself, "But I do not wish to marry anyone, particularly a - what is he, a warlock?" The young woman shuddered at the terrifying thought.

"Duncan is not a warlock."

Kathleena gaped at her sire. _Duncan_? Why did that name seem familiar to her? "Duncan, Father?"

Jacques clenched his teeth. "Yes," he ground out, forcing the accursed words from his throat. "Duncan Philip Fasette."

As Kathleena slowly repeated the name, a look of stark shock distorted her delicate features. "Father, Pierre had a close friend named Duncan, did he not?" Unwanted memories unexpectedly crashed over her. Tears sliding down her face she closed her eyes, her mind forcing her back a decade. As if she were watching some ghastly theatre performance, Kathleena saw herself, a young girl of seven running alongside the edge of an expansive lake. Shaking in abject horror, she watched on helplessly as the young man from her vision stood in a small dinghy, spitefully ignoring her brother's fervent pleas for help, her beloved Pierre surfacing alive for the final time, desperately trying to clutch the side of the craft. Despite her tender years, Kathleena felt a burst of guilt pressing down upon her, guilt that would forever stay with her. Screaming across the water, terror making her shouts wobbly, the child's voice pleaded, "Help him! Please! Just reach down and take his hand. You can still save him!" Looking upon Kathleena, the young man glared at her with a smile so diabolical, it forcefully released her from her vivid memories.

"Father," she gasped. "Are you actually trying to tell me that I will be forced to marry the brutal bastard who had slayed my brother? No!" she screamed, shaking her head with conviction. "I will not do it! Never…_Mon Dieu_! Never! I do not care what that damnable paper says!" Jacques closed his eyes at her heartache. Suddenly, she recalled his earlier words. "I don't understand. You said, quite clearly in fact that Angelique's son is not a warlock. How can that be if his mother is a witch?"

Jacques brow furrowed. "Lucien Fasette was human. He was also my very best friend."

Trembling, Kathleena looked up into pale eyes. "Was?"

He nodded. "Yes. He is dead. Rumor has it that Duncan assassinated his own sire in an attempt to please his mother." At his daughter's gasp, he continued. "Duncan is supernaturally powerless… But he is infinitely evil, make no mistake about that, _ma chérie_. He is forever trying to prove himself to Angelique who views him as a vast disappointment. The boy is cruel, merciless. That is why you must leave," Jacques explained, his eyes frantic with worry, "I fear for your safety Kathleena… for your very life."

Violently, she waved the paper in her hand. "Father, such an unholy pledge cannot possibly be enforced, can it? Surely having had no knowledge of the plot concocted between Angelique and my mother, you could argue–"

"I have tried my darling. Numerous attempts. Please," he begged, "you must believe me. Despite the capital and the power I have at my disposal, nothing I've done has pardoned you."

Grasping at any possible escapes, Kathleena cried, "But my mother is dead!"

Jacques strode to his daughter gathering her into his strong arms and struggling to comfort her. No longer did he fear to hold his child; the truth was finally known. "Angelique refuses to yield. I've offered twice the amount of your dowry's worth and still she will not surrender the hold she has over you. My barristers, the magistrate, the constables; they have informed me nothing can be done to end this engagement and even they are at a loss as to why! Evil influences are governing the situation."

Slowly Kathleena pulled away, trying to digest all she'd heard. "Then there is no justice in this world. Duncan murdered Pierre, possibly his own sire and yet, nothing is done to stop him." She turned to her father then. "Please," she whispered, "tell me why?"

Jacques shook his head, watching the flames dying in the fireplace, his voice barely audible. "I cannot answer your question, _chérie_ for I ask myself the same each and every day." Jacques turned to her, gazing deeply into eyes so like his own; filled with such pain, such anguish. "Please, you must understand, this is the reason you'd studied in England. I'd just suffered the death of my son; I could not lose you too. I sent you away to protect you."

Kathleena sniffled, brushing away a tear. "I'd always believed you hadn't loved me enough to want me to stay with you."

Jacques closed his eyes against the lifetime of hurt he had caused his beloved child. Gently, he kissed her forehead; something he had not allowed himself to do since she was an infant, newly born. He couldn't bear the thought of her leaving again so soon, but told himself it was for the best. _Her_ best. "Never doubt my love for you, dear girl. You are correct; I could never touch you, would never hold you. I was so afraid you'd discover the horrible tale I'd kept inside." He looked away. "I have truly been a coward, having lost so much time with you." Hesitantly Jacques released her, holding his beautiful daughter at arm's length. "I will speak to Madeline. She has a relative in America. A niece, I believe. Perhaps there is a chance you could live with her. The sooner this matter is handled, the better."

_America? So far away?! _Sadly, she nodded in acceptance.

"Good."

Kathleena stopped her sire as he turned to leave. "Father, your wife... The children… Please. You are happy, aren't you?"

"I will not truly be happy until you are safely away from here," he lied, "but yes, I am delighted with my new family."

Despite the utter misery she felt, she smiled up at him. "I'm glad. Madeline seems like a very fine, compassionate woman. And Charles and Charlotte are little sweethearts. I am thrilled for your good fortune," she said, her voice cracking,"truly I am." Before leaving, Jacques took one last look at his daughter. Her slim back now to him, she gazed from the window; her shapely shoulders quivering as she sobbed silently.

* * *

Kathleena sat on the terrace just beyond her bedroom. Leaning her head against the wall of the chateau, she somberly watched as the final traces of sunset made way for the encroaching darkness. Her thoughts in utter chaos, a gentle knock sounded at her door drawing her temporarily from her reveries. "Come," she called.

"May I speak to you for a moment?"

The furrowed brow on her new mother's face told Kathleena Madeline was now quite aware of her life changing situation. She frowned, she would not tolerate anyone's show of pity. With a nod, an errant tear slid down her cheek, "please," the young woman said quietly, motioning to a chair set before the fire.

Certain she'd somehow slighted the girl, Madeline cleared her throat. Willing her tone to remain unemotional, lest she upset her new daughter any further, she quickly stated the reason for her visit. "Jacques has told me of the trouble you are facing. I wish to offer my assistance. Your father, he has mentioned my niece in America?" At Kathleena's nod, she continued. "Her name is Tierra Benjamin. She, along with her fiancé, holds a large tract of land in the state of Pennsylvania. With your consent, I will contact the couple. Perhaps you could…visit?" She said, for lack of a better word.

Seating herself on the divan, Kathleena stared into the fire. _Yes_. _Yes, as difficult as it was to admit, she must leave_. "Oui. Please do so, merci." Madeline gazed helplessly into the young woman's eyes. Returning her stare, Kathleena smiled sadly, aware of what was to come. "There is something else you wish to discuss." It was not a question but a statement.

As if a dam burst, the woman's words spilled forth, unable to be quelled. "My dear, when we'd met you'd expressed your sympathies to my family. Rather surprised, I questioned your father. Although Jacques had assured me he had never mentioned the situation; he suggested I speak to you. That… you could somehow explain." As the elegant lady took her hand, Kathleena could feel utter desperation. "Please," she begged her voice intense with pain and yearning, "Please tell me. How … how you know of the carriage accident?"

Closing her eyes, Kathleena groaned inwardly. She loathed having to perform her ability, feeling as though she was being viewed as an odd parlor trick. Still, she realized that this…this stranger, under no obligation to do so, was attempting to help her. She owed this woman something. "Madeline," Kathleena began, staring deeply into warm brown eyes. "I have an uncommon ability. I am able to know a person through touch. Their thoughts, feelings, experiences. When I held your hands in greeting, when your daughter held my face, I could feel your intolerable grief, the tragic loss." Placing her fingers over Madeline's, Kathleena tried to ease her gloom, despite the overwhelming despair she herself tackled. "When you'd heard your husband and son had perished in the tragedy, it took several months to finally admit to yourself that they were truly gone forever."

Unable to speak, Madeline nodded in anguish. Tears tumbled freely down her cheek. "My loving husband, Maurice," she finally whispered, "My…" A sob, ugly and raw with pain escaped her, "...my beautiful boy, Jean. Tell me... please, I must know, did they suffer greatly when the end came?"

Able to feel her stepmother's agony, the teenager closed her eyes. This woman's heart was broken. Kathleena wished she had the ability to answer her question; to be able to offer some small bit of closure. However, without physically touching the bodies herself, she was unable to give her the news she so desperately wanted to hear, needed to know. Able to read of only Madeline's thoughts, her memories, Kathleena took a deep breath and gazed into frantic pleading eyes. "The end… It came so quickly. There was ...there was no time for pain… for either of them." The lie tripped convincingly from her lips.

A smile of great relief immediately brightened Madeline's face. It felt as if the weight of the world was taken from her shoulders, her body free of some of the strain she held within for so long. She knew! Finally, Finally! Their deaths were instant, painless; her loved ones had not agonized. "Merci, I will be forever in your debt." A single tear slid down Kathleena's cheek as she felt a gentle kiss pressed against her hair. _Oh, how easy it was to invent. If only her own problems could vanish so quickly. Yes, let's pretend... _

Watching her step mother practically skip toward the door, Kathleena rose to her feet. "Wait, please!"

Noting something odd in the young woman's voice, she slowly turned; her hand upon the knob. Warm brown eyes were now murky with a sudden surge of fear. Kathleena shook her head; there was no good reason to hurt her with the truth. She sighed saying simply, "Charles and Charlotte… Love them well, for they continue to pine for their father and brother so."

Bestowing a smile of absolute relief, Madeline stepped out into the hall. "Of that, you can be certain. Oh! I feel so much better having spoken to you. You truly have an extraordinary gift, my dear. Rest well."

Opening the armoire, Kathleena drew out a beautiful cream nightgown shaking her head as she began to disrobe.

_Of course…_ she thought dryly… _a gift_.

* * *

Hours later...

Tossing and turning on the counterpane Kathleena groaned, unable to sleep. Her mind constantly returned to that damned contract and her father's dreadful words. Why must she face such insanity? What could she have possibly done to bring this fate upon her? A beautiful relentless witch with unknown nefarious plans? An unexpected, handsome homicidal fiancé? Frustrated, she leapt from the bed and began to pace the room. Situations like this simply didn't occur. It was a fairytale, one without the usual happy ending; a fable concocted from someone's warped imagination!

Glancing at the clock, she read half past two. As drowsy as she was there would be no sleep for her this night, not with all of the thoughts running rampant in her mind. Rubbing her temples Kathleena paused before the bookshelf and chose a title. Hoping to distract her fevered brain she threw herself into a chair, straining to concentrate on the words.

At the strike of three, she heard a soft knock. Never pausing to think it strange that a visitor should be calling at this late hour, Kathleena threw open the door expecting to see her father. Instead, she gasped in dismay standing face to face with an evil ghost from her past. With icy blue eyes directed at her in furious anger, he quickly latched the door behind him.

_Oh my God, no_!

The scream of terror stuck in her throat. In an instant, a powerful palm covered her mouth, pressing her tender lips hurtfully against her teeth until she tasted blood. Struggling ineffectively, she clawed at his hand with her sharp nails.

Duncan hissed into her ear, as evil as a serpent as he crushed her tightly against him. "Ahh, I see you remember me, good."

Not only was Kathleena frightened out of her head, but also completely confused. Images appeared to her but they were garbled and unclear. Perhaps it was her intense state of panic but she simply could not understand him.

And yet, other visions came to mind. Some, as clear as crystal, images supplied by his memory.

Her beloved brother, Pierre as he struggled and drowned at the lake. A handsome man, matching Duncan in looks, lay on the ground; a knife speared obscenely through his heart; he himself standing over the body with blood on his hands.

Mon Dieu! Her father was correct, Duncan _had_ murdered his sire. Tears sprang to her eyes as she wondered what was he was going to do to her. If he could be so hard hearted, so cold blooded to his own flesh, what...?

Although no match for his superior strength, Kathleena renewed her attempts to save herself. Despite her ignorance of what was to come, she saw the absolute evil in his eyes, nothing but pure hatred in their icy depths, hatred for her.

_Why? What have I done_?

Growing bored with her futile struggles, the Frenchman savagely struck her in the throat with a vicious fist. Collapsing to the floor, she stared up into his dark eyes, painfully gasping for breath, watching as he strode toward her, menacingly... purposeful. Feeling her aura of fear crackle in the air, Duncan imagined great power coursing throughout himself and Kathleena trembled as he bent down to clutch her roughly about the waist, digging his long fingers brutally into her soft flesh, pulling her against the hard wall of his body.

"Scream, and I will slaughter _all_ in this chateau. _Both_ young and old. Do you understand me?"

Not a man to wait for an answer, he cruelly shoved her against the foot of the bed and crashed heavily on top of her before she could gather her wits and escape; his muscular body pressing hers deeply into the soft feathered mattress. A malicious smile spread across his handsome features and Kathleena froze, still as a stone, as a grinding sound of metal on metal filled the silent room.

Sliding a razor sharp dagger from a sheath on his belt, Duncan placed it beside her head on the pillow. Looking down, he rejoiced at the naked horror radiating from her beautiful blue eyes.

"So we meet again, my dear," he snarled sarcastically, finding himself begrudgingly admiring her supple body. Short in stature but truly magnificent. Kathleena could feel her flesh crawl as his sneering gaze raked over her. With a shake of his head, he cleared his throat. That was not what he was here for, not what he wanted. "The last time our paths crossed… I remember it so well," he taunted, "Do you?" In spite of the dangerous situation she was now in, Kathleena glared and lurched upward trying to unseat him. "Yes, I can see that you do." Shaking his head, Duncan snickered quietly. "Poor Pierre… Oh well… C'est la vie."

Blue eyes narrowing in fury at the unmistakable note of triumph in his voice, she sent her knee into his crotch, greatly satisfied at his harsh intake of breath. Through his pain, he could see that she was enormously pleased with herself despite her fear. Growling low in his chest, he clutched the opaline handle of the dagger."You bitch! And I did so want to take my time; so wanted to enjoy your suffering..."

With a heavy hand placed over her mouth, Duncan pressed the tip of the razor sharp blade deeply into her throat; her hot blood pulsing wildly as he slit her from ear to ear. Blinking first in complete amazement and then pure disbelief, the unbelievable waves of agony began.

(_**Mon Dieu! **__**Please let me die**_.)

As her blood poured from the wound unstaunched, she could feel her life waning. Kathleena heard him then; his voice coming to her as if from a great distance. "Do not worry," Duncan hissed mockingly; his hushed tones chilling her more than had he roared in anger, "You shall live, no matter how much you may wish otherwise. I will not grant you death for that would end my enjoyment _much_ too soon!"

Barely conscious, she felt the great weight of his body leave hers. Glancing about, Duncan smirked nastily as he'd found what he was hunting for. Grabbing the water decanter, he emptied it into the washbasin and placed the cold glass against Kathleena's shredded throat.

Strangely curious, she forced her tired eyes to open, immediately wishing she hadn't for he now held the container aloft. It was filled with her blood - thick and crimson.

Examining the contents Duncan chanced to look her way. Surprised to find her wild-eyed and watching him, he tilted the glass to her as if in salute and, to her ultimate disgust, put the container to his lips swallowing her warm, red essence.

Closing her suddenly heavy lids, she moaned soundlessly, repulsed. Glaring at her with intense contempt, he reached into his breast pocket and removed a needle and strong thread.

Bending over her, he hissed cruelly, "If she is to force me to suffer through this engagement, so I swear shall you!"

Kathleena's mind whirling wildly out of control, she was finally beyond hearing; having slipped into a distant dream world, never experiencing the sharp stab of the needle as it entered her bloody flesh...


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Kathleena forced her swollen eyes to open as bright sunlight splashed across her face. Staring up at the ceiling, she found herself in bed and breathed a huge sigh of relief. She was alive! It was nothing but a horrendous dream; an unholy nightmare brought on by the discussion with her father. Attempting to rise, her mind screamed in agony as an intense excruciating pain tore across her throat.

**(_No please, dear Lord_!)**

Cautiously lifting a slim hand, her fingertips stumbled upon the coarse ugly sutures. Immediately, Duncan's vicious warning echoed through her mind. _I __will butcher anyone you dare tell. I will force you to witness their suffering as I gut them before you. You will live with the knowledge that they had to die due to your inability to keep your damned mouth shut! True, I may hold the knife but it will be because of you! Now, let us see how well you can keep a secret, hmmm?_ She could still hear his hushed maniacal laughter rippling through her.

Frozen with unbelievable fear and waves of pain, Kathleena sobbed deep inside herself. Even a slight attempt at any movement caused her more agony than she believed she could ever endure and still be considered alive. **_(_****_I must! I must move! If one of the servants should find me here like this. If father…) _**Her long tresses were caked with blood and she found the only way to be free of the pillow was to actually rip herself away. She immediately found herself at a whole new level of hurt. Unsuccessfully struggling to rise up from the bed, Kathleena closed her eyes as wave after wave of unending pain passed over her, able to do nothing but suffer as tears ran from beneath closed lids.

Several moments passed before she summoned the courage to try again to move, knowing she would need every ounce of attention she possessed just to slither from the bed without crying out. A scream would surely bring everyone in the chateau coming to her aid. Kathleena vowed no one would needlessly die because of her, not disbelieving for an instant Duncan's promise of torture and death. Not after this.

Dragging herself, inch by slow and painful inch to the edge of the mattress, Kathleena stopped to catch her breath. Finding the pain would not permit her to sit upright, she realized that she would have to slide to the floor. **_(No. Oh God, this will be impossible_!) **Biting her bottom lip to keep silent, she clenched the counterpane tightly between her fingers, holding on to the fabric in a near death grip. **(_This will work! It has to!_)** she thought confidently, as she began to cautiously ease herself over the side. Suddenly, Kathleena's already weakened strength fled completely and she crashed to the hard floor with a thud. No longer able to contain her cries, she wailed in agony.

**(_Mon Dieu! Aidez-moi!) _**Despite Duncan's threats, she needed someone desperately. She waited, but to her surprise no one came. Why? Her cries for help…they echoed throughout the entire room. Surely… no, she realized with a start, it was all in her head. Beginning to panic, she called out for her sire**_. _****_(Father! Aidez-moi! Father!) _**Her lips opened, her mouth moved but the sound was filling only her mind, not her ears. In disbelief, Kathleena suddenly understood she had been rendered permanently silent from Duncan's grueling attack. **(_No! Noooo!) _**Despite her shock, she froze at the sound of a gentle knock on her door. Had someone heard her fall?

"Kathleena, C'est moi. May I come in?" After the discussion they had last night, Madeline found she wished to get to know her stepdaughter much better. Charlotte and Charles were also asking for her. They wanted to break their fast with their new sister. She knocked again and as her hand began to turn the knob, Kathleena trembled uncontrollably, forcing her to inhale sharply. The simple tremor coursing through her body assaulted her with another crippling wave of pain.

**(_Oh no! Madeline, please stay out_!)** She implored through her pain. Although she knew she needed assistance, Kathleena did not wish to cause the woman's death. The children needed her. Her father needed her. She held her breath, unable to remember whether the latch was secure.

"Mama?" The sound of a little girl's soft voice drew Kathleena's attention. Frantically, she tried to will the child. **(_Oui Charlotte...please, call her away... make her leave!_)** The wave of agony had somewhat reduced and she lay on the floor, listening intently to the conversation. "Mama," the little girl whined. "I've finished my breakfast. You promised that afterward, I could go to the stables to meet Kathleena's mare."

Dieu Merci! The little one was obviously horse mad! _**(Yes!)**_ Kathleena pleaded silently desperately,**_ (P_****_lease_ Madeline! Take her to visit Deidra! How** can you deny that precious child anything?!)

With Charlotte pulling firmly on her wrist, Madeline looked back at the door one last time before reluctantly allowing herself to be led away. As Kathleena heard their footsteps diminishing down the hall, she breathed in relief _**(Move!)**_ She demanded of herself. _**(Quickly, you must act before anyone else comes!) **_With that horrifying thought in mind, she was able to summon the strength hidden deep within her to combat her misery. As soon as she was on her feet however, a wave of nausea struck her so greatly. Stumbling to the chamber pot she spewed the meager contents of her stomach, the retching movement forcing her backwards to the floor. The shuddering agony was so intense, that had she the means to do so, Kathleena knew she would have slit her wrists, ending her torture.

When again able to move, she slowly and carefully crawled across the floor, dragging herself up to the basin and cleansed her mouth with water, refusing to look at her image in the mirror. Slowly turning toward the bed, Kathleena clutched the post so tightly her knuckles turned pale.

An enormous amount of blood had turned the linens scarlet. Spying the gruesome water decanter lying on the floor she tightly closed her eyes, picturing Duncan drain it of her blood. Never would she forget. Forcefully swallowing the lump of bile that had risen in her throat, Kathleena moaning silently at the pain that the simple act caused her.

Mustering her concentration, she focused on the task ahead: To remove the soiled sheets without losing total consciousness. Tossing the linens onto the dying embers in the hearth, the articles burst into flames; the fire leaping high as the evidence of the vile deed commited in this room was destroyed. Adding the pillowcases and duvet, she frowned at feather mattress, at the blood that had soaked through. Unable to do anything more, Kathleena carefully made her way to the bedding closet drawing several sheets and shams from the shelves.

As she'd finished putting everything back to rights, she crumpled across the bed, the welcoming arms of sweet oblivion tightly grabbing hold.

* * *

The boudoir was chilly and darkening from the setting of the sun as she awoke. **(_How long have I been like this?) _**

She knew she had to rise, had to stand before someone came looking for her unless – No… if they had, she would not be here now. **_(Move!) _**

Her body was so stiff and still so very weak, Kathleena could not find it in herself to will her parts to obey. **_(Duncan cannot win! You cannot let him win. Father, Madeline… those two innocent children...) _**His threat was her motivation.**_ (Move now!) _**

Finding what little strength she could muster, Kathleena slid down the side of the bed, crying out silently as one of the sutures caught on the mattress. Closing her eyes, she tried to think, tried to focus on anything but the slashing pain. Tears of unbelievable helplessness slid past long lashes. She needed aid, of that she was certain. As quickly as the thought entered her mind, she forcefully dismissed it. No, she couldn't, wouldn't involve anyone else. She had to help herself or everyone would die. **_(No one must know. No one!)_**

Time... All she needed was time. An idea came to her, crafted from desperation. (**_Yes! it would work...it had to!)_** Slowly creeping to the desk, Kathleena pulled herself up to its surface. Finding a pad in one of the drawers, she clutched the pen, plunging it into the inkwell. While hastily scrawling a few brief lines, she closed her eyes and prayed to God she was convincing. (**_Please, Mon Dieu_**.)

With the sheet placed between her dry lips, she slunk across the floor like a beaten animal and slipped the paper underneath the door, to the hall beyond. Reaching up to make certain the lock was secure, she trembled as almost immediately heavy boot steps echoed down the corridor; getting louder, coming closer. (**_Please work… Please work…_**) Kathleena repeated the mantra over and over again in her head.

Worried about his daughter, Jacques had come to investigate. Kathleena had not come downstairs at all today nor had she requested any meals to be sent up. Was she hurt? As he approached, he noticed a piece of paper on the floor. Crouching to pick it up, he quickly scanned her words:

Father,

You must excuse me; I have suddenly become quite ill. I do not wish to sicken the entire household. Charlotte…Charles… I couldn't bear it if they came down with something. All I wish for at the moment is rest. I hope to feel much better in the morning.

K.

As her father tapped on the door, Kathleena held her breath. "Darling, do you want for anything?" When she didn't reply, he sighed. Perhaps she was asleep. "Get well ma Cherie... If you find yourself in need, ring for Gibson. I will see you tomorrow."

Hearing his steps fade, hot desperate tears rolled down her face. **_(Father, please … Oh, how I wish you could help me...hold me…)_**

The setting sun cast long shadows on the far wall of her room and Kathleena's heavy eyelids fluttered closed. **(_Rest!) _**she begged.** _(Please let me rest. Only for a little while..._** **_Tired… So very tired…No! Y_****_ou must keep moving!_** **_Get up! Move! C'est des conneries!*)_** Having only until morning to do what she must, Kathleena reluctantly hauled herself from the floor gradually making her way to the large doors that led out to the terrace. A look of firm resolve flashed across blood stained features.

The deep darkness of night would arrive within the next hour. She vowed to be ready. She had to be!

* * *

Translation: *This is bullshit!

* * *

Walking about the room at a snail's pace, Kathleena gingerly gathered essential supplies for a bath making certain to include a comb to tackle her blood encrusted curls. Breathing deeply, she chose a gown from the wardrobe and closed the doors. It was time. She was ready. No, she … she wasn't. Returning to the closet, the girl quickly rummaged for something … There: a simple neckerchief. Of all the things she could possibly need, this one article would be the most crucial. Kathleena stared out the window. Finally evening had come.

Clutching the key, she slipped silently onto the balcony and listened for any suspicious noises below. The loud chatter of stone martens was the only sound to greet her. Peering over the rail, she could see nothing for the night was as black as pitch. She would be safely concealed in the darkness.

Releasing her bag at the same height as the handrail, Kathleena counted as it hit the ground. **_(Une, deux, trois … Mon Dieu!) _**She estimated the fall to be at most, twelve feet with nothing to soften her landing. Her hurts were so new; this drop was going to be tremendously painful. Realizing it was time to begin, she placed one shapely leg over the balustrade and then the other. Sitting on the edge, she struggled to muster her courage. **_(There is no choice… I cannot be seen like this. _****_Damn you Duncan, you bastard!)_**

The one bit of solace she gained was the knowledge that this initial pain would not have to be repeated. Slipping back into the chateau would be simple. Thanks to Pierre, she knew every entrance, even the hidden ones. And, in the off chance she was seen on her return, she would not look as shocking as she did now.

Praying for the strength to face her pain, Kathleena took a deep breath and began to lower herself until her entire 5'3" body was stretched to its limits. She groaned silently. The position of her arms above her head puckered the skin on her chest and throat, causing pain to radiate from her slashed flesh. There were but two choices; to continue to hold on and endure the pain or to simply let go. Either way, these remaining seven feet were going to hurt like hell. Ultimately, the decision was taken from her. Losing her grip on the railing, she fell buckling to the ground on impact.

She cried noiselessly, tears of pain blinding her for a long moment. **(_No! _**_**There is no time…**_ **_No time for pain_! **_**Move****, Damn you!) **_Retrieving her bundle, Kathleena clutched it tightly against her chest and headed east into the vast woods beyond the property. She had to find the beautiful grotto she remembered playing at as a child. Thoughts turned to her brother; happy memories her companion as she carefully picked her way through the overgrowth of trees and thorny brambles.

With great love she recalled how Pierre would fancy he was a rogue swashbuckler; the grotto, his wild, abandoned island in the center of the ocean."Come play with me, Kathy," he would say in a severe older sibling tone, a tone that brooked no argument. "I need a prisoner." Kathleena would find herself standing at the highest point above the falls, a sharp stick to her back, he _forcing _her to jump. She would scream with glee, swimming out of the way as she landed; Pierre immediately following. She smiled at the wonderful memory.

With her throat now throbbing painfully, the pleasant thoughts were dashed as Kathleena was forced back into the present. Raising a cautious hand to her ravaged flesh, she felt blood, warm and sticky course down her chest into the bodice of her ruined gown. Realizing she must've torn a stitch when she fell, she'd decided to care for it after she bathed for at that moment, she heard the familiar sound of so long ago and hurried toward the babble of rushing water. She knew she must be quick about it.

Tossing her bag near the edge of the pool, she carefully eased from her gown. Her shift, shoes and stockings soon followed. Testing the water with her toe and finding it pleasant, Kathleena clutched the rose soap and waded to the deepest end below the falls. Quickly she attacked her hair with a vengeance, tasting blood as it ran down her face along with the rinse water. Only when she found she could run her fingers through her chestnut locks without catching, did she consider her hair properly scrubbed. Feeling her strength begin to fade, Kathleena quickly lathered her body and, slipping beneath the surface once more strode back to her effects.

At the water's edge, she found herself shivering. Not from the sudden night breeze that stirred, not from the chilling of her damp flesh but something else entirely. Kathleena glanced around frantically, the darkness so thick she could see nothing.

**(_Not Duncan! Not again_!)**

Cruel punishing fingers dug into the soft flesh of her upper arms. Hauling her from the water he drew her nude form against the hard wall of his chest. _**(No!)**_ As she panicked and thrashed against him, the last of her meager strength had vanished. Duncan savagely kicked her legs out from under her and she fell limply to the ground. On her in an instant, he noted her silence.

"What is this?" he questioned nastily. "No unkind words? We are alone. Why do you not scream at me or at the very least, beg me to explain why I have done this? Come, Kathleena… It will give me another reason to punish you."

(**_Punish me…for what?!_** **_What have I done to deserve this? What have I done to deserve any of it?!)_** Wriggling her hand free, Kathleena furiously sank her sharp nails deeply into Duncan's fine cheek. Extremely conceited, he instinctively reacted, striking her viciously across the face. A great surge of agony washed over her as her head lurched against the ground.

Removing a handkercheif from his breast pocket he staunched the blood. "Did you believe I was done with you, bitch?" he hissed. Of course he wasn't, but she hadn't dreamed he would return this quickly. "Still silent, hmm?" he asked, looking down at bloody cloth he held. Her silence was unnerving. "Say something," he growled threateningly. Wide eyed and frightened, Kathleena's blue eyes spoke volumes. Duncan chuckled as he began to realize. She glared up at him as his insane laughter intensified. "Do not tell me that the little _scratch_ I gave you left you voiceless." He grinned, taunting her. "No, I suppose you are incapable of telling me anything."

He sighed then, sounding truly disappointed. "Well, that does make it easier for you, does it not?" At her curious expression, he shrugged, "I understand that you will be leaving France very soon." Feeling her body tense beneath him, Duncan grinned. "I have many moles available to me. Could you believe a certain number are firmly entrenched at Le Chateau de Tell? Is it one of the upstairs maids? Could it be Gibson? Perhaps, I am lying to you. You will truely never know. But you can be certain that when enough francs are offered, even your nearest and dearest friend will betray you. Remember that."

As a look of sorrow crossed Kathleena's face, he sneered. "I also understand you have not _communicated_ to anyone that I had come to you. You know what would have happened had you done so. I must admit, the note was a touch of genius. I admire you." Pressing himself more firmly against her nude form, he hissed, "Do not become accustomed to it. Before you leave however, I will issue my final instructions."

He lowered his voice and growled, "Heed them well, for I am a man who _always_ honors his word." As he spoke, a finger slowly ran along the coarse threads. He was pleased when Kathleena tried to shrink away, causing herself pain in the process. "You trust you will be safe simply because you are…leaving? How wrong you…" Suddenly, Duncan's focus on his words of torment faltered as he felt fresh blood on her delicate skin. "It seems you have split a stitch," he tsked. "You must be more careful." As he dipped his blonde head to her throat she paled, aware of his dastardly intentions.

**_(No! Fils de pute*)_**

The feeling of Duncan's warm mouth against her flesh caused Kathleena to tremble with remembered revulsion. She could do nothing but close her eyes as he sucked against her flesh, drawing her warm blood into his mouth and down his throat. Suddenly he pulled away, running his hand across his lips. She was amazed when he voiced no cutting remark about his vile deed. Again, Duncan fiddled with his handiwork.

"I have made it impossible for any man to gaze upon you with feelings of desire. You do look the freak, Kathleena. Yes, it would surely take a man with a strong constitution to feel anything but disgust or at the most, pity for you. I must tell you, I could have sutured your flesh together with much smaller stitches; scarcely leaving a mark but then, what would be the fun in that?" Kathleena thrust up against him in fury. "Do not even consider it!" he hissed, gripping her ravaged throat, recalling the other night when she had nearly brought him low with her knee. She inhaled deeply as his hand caused unimaginable agony.

Duncan snorted as he raised himself from Kathleena's bare frame to tower above her. "My last command... and even I must confess, I am truly amazed." He then muttered to himself, "Surely this time, she…" shaking his head, he said. "I do hope you have seen enough of your _beloved papa_ to satisfy you. From this moment forward, you will no longer look upon any man's face, with those beguiling blue eyes of yours. If you do, and believe me, I will have my informants observing you closely; I will personally take great pleasure in burning your eyes from their sockets with blazing coals." He smirked proudly as he watched her entire body quake at the frightful possibility.

"Yes, can you not picture it? You will be able to trust no one in this world. I had planned to issue an order that forbade you to speak, however..." his voice trailed off. "You will remain clean until your twenty-first year and when I do finally claim you, I will endure this farce of a marriage and then end your life." Icy blue eyes narrowed into tiny slits, Duncan's hatred pinning Kathleena to the ground. "Nothing but three more years will impede my vows to my beautiful Claudette."

As a look of utter shock and horror crossed Kathleena's pale face the Frenchman snarled, "Did you actually think this engagement was my idea? I promise you, I shall not be the only one forced to suffer this demented situation."

Whirling on his heel to leave, Duncan paused without looking back. "One final note of caution…Take great care… Do not become too at ease while in America. You never know when the exact moment will come, but one day you will turn around and I will be there." Walking away, he smiled as he heard her retch violently.

* * *

Translation: *Son of a bitch.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Kathleena gazed at her image reflected in the window as the train jostled along the rails. The scenery in this land of Pennsylvania was exquisite. Tall sugar maples and white oaks rose high above green rolling hills, their autumn foliage every vibrant shade of red, orange and yellow. The movement of the train began to lull the young woman into a calm stupor. Suddenly tired, her eyes closed and her mind drifted back to the morning after the grotto. Standing in her father's study, Kathleena could understand his confusion as he stared at her, vexed. For, without explanation, she refused to speak to him, refused to look at him.

Why has she changed so suddenly? Feeling intense panic rise quickly in her breast, she closed her eyes as Jacques gently placed a strong hand under her chin, lifting her face to his. "What is wrong, Cherie? Look at me!" Kathleena pulled away and strode to her father's desk, a deep frown of despair clouding her beautiful features. Able to feel his confusion and anger at her sudden 'defiance' she shook her head. Why was this happening to her? Dear Lord, why had she returned? He watched as she scribed in a writing table she had been holding in her hand since he had greeted her this morning, a table that was now her only form of communication. 'I must leave... today.' He read her words. "Kathleena," he growled. "You will tell me what has happened! I am your father! I demand to know this very instant!"

Madeline flinched at the austere tone in her husband's voice. It held an edge of danger she had never heard before. Had Jacques' words been directed at her, she would have told him anything he wished to know. His daughter was not so inclined. Only one voice could cause her to tremble... a voice that spoke in whispered tones, laced with threats and promises of severe agony. As she tipped the pen to the ink pot, he noticed a tremor run through her slight body. 'Nothing has happened, Father,' she lied. 'I only sense that I am in great danger here especially if ...' Kathleena's hand paused as she closed her eyes, remembering '...Duncan is as dangerous as you believe.' As her father paced his study, she watched with head lowered. "But no arrangements have been made. There has been no time to contact Miss Benjamin."

Madeline stepped forward, placing her hand on her husband's sleeve. "Jacques, there is no need to wait. If your daughter feels she is in such great danger, I can write a letter of introduction, explaining to my niece the situation." Gazing up at her step mother, Kathleena bestowed her a smile of such thanks that her father actually growled aloud. This was truly unbelievable! Why the devil would she look upon Madeline and not him? Did she hate him for keeping secret the danger she was facing? Did she think him a coward? Unable to help himself, Jacques again grasped her chin in his large hand and frowned as she focused on anything but him. "I finally understand. You blame me so much for not protecting you from Marie, you cannot bear to look at your own father."

Immediately, hot tears sprang to her eyes. Kathleena shook her head, gently now, for her throat was beginning to throb painfully. _**(Oh Father, how I wish I could tell you.) **_He released her chin, throwing his hands in the air. Desperately, she tried to will him not to be furious with her. Dear Lord how she longed to see his face one last time. Duncan's order was much too difficult to obey. Thoughts returned to his shocking words at the grotto. Who worked for him here at the chateau? Who could possibly hate her so deeply? Or was Duncan merely lying to prove his mastery over her? _**(Damn it!)**__ S_he could not find it within herself to put his ultimatum to the test. Having lost no much, Kathleena would not gamble with her sight.

He turned at the sound of the pen scratching against paper. This was sheer madness! Why had she so stubbornly refused to be seen by a doctor? As she held out a paper before her, Jacques was forced to take it. 'Father, please...Never will I blame you for this situation. You did not know of the evil that poisoned my mother's heart. I will forever love you...' Unable to read any more, he tossed the paper on his desk and tightly enfolded his daughter, kissing the top of her head, inhaling the sweet scent of roses. "Kathleena..." A tear slid down her cheek as she savored what little comfort she was allowed to accept. Duncan had not taken this from her. But he would, of that she had no doubt.

Reluctantly, her father released her and went to his safe. "You will take this," he said, placing a large amount of American currency into an envelope. "I will also instruct my solicitors in the states to set up an account." Jacques suddenly realized. "Oh yes, you will also need to select a woman to assist you while you travel." Placing a hand on his fine suit coat, Kathleena shook her head. "Daughter, you are truly insane if you believe I am going to allow you to travel alone to another country, particularly if your silence is permanent." Tears slid down her cheeks as she shook her head in vigorous protest, feeling the stitches tighten painfully against her ravaged flesh. She could take no one; she could trust no one. Someone might be a traitor.

"Husband," Madeline said gently as she pulled him aside. "Allow her this one decision. If she feels the need, I am certain Kathleena will employ a servant." At his puckered brow, she continued. "Jacques, your daughter is clearly overwhelmed and afraid. After all, she will be an outsider in a foreign land, calling upon people she doesn't know to help her."

He whispered into his wife's ear, "Duncan cannot have her. He can't!"

She gazed up at her beloved seeing for the first time the deep lines etched into his handsome face. "_Ma Cher_, look at her. Take a long, hard look." Turning, Jacques gazed at his little girl standing near the harpsichord, sadly fingering the keys. No. He shook his head. Kathleena was a little girl no longer. "Do you know what I see?" Madeline asked. "I see a strong woman, full of courage, perseverance and intelligence."

With a groan, he realized everything his wife said was true and slowly nodded in agreement. "Good, "she said firmly, ushering her husband into the hallway. "Now, be a dear and leave us." Concern was clearly evident in her voice." I wish to write the letter to my niece and your daughter and I have much to discuss." Closing the doors a little too quickly to be considered polite, Madeline rushed to the young woman. "Who has done this to you?"

Although her heart skipped a beat, outwardly Kathleena remained calm. She stared at the woman, a confused look pasted on her beautiful features. Madeline shook her head with a frown. "As you were speaking to your father, your covering slipped. He did not see, but I had. You must tell me everything."

Placing a hand to her throat, the young woman turned away.

Undeterred, her stepmother handed her the writing tablet and ink. Kathleena gawked at it as if it were a snake about to strike. With a sigh, she hastily scrawled, 'I cannot! It is too dangerous.'

"But..."

'I can write nothing more.'

Cautiously, Madeline reached up. Kathleena made no move to stop her and instead closed her eyes as the woman lowered the neckerchief, uncovering her repulsive wound. Breathing deeply she fought to control the strong urge to vomit. "_Mon Dieu_!" Placing a finger to her lips, she motioned for silence. "Yesterday," she whispered. "When I came to your room, he was there?" Shaking her head, Kathleena winced in pain, she had to stop her questions. Placing a finger against her lips, she tapped them firmly, expressive eyes pleading for quiet. Nodding reluctantly, Madeline sighed, "I shall write the letter to Tierra. She will accept you if I wish it." Suddenly, Charles and Charlotte burst into the room followed by their governess.

"I apologize, Madame Dubois-Tell. Are we interrupting?"

"Well, actually we -" Placing a hand on Madeline's shoulder to hush her, it was in that instant Kathleena realized she could trust the woman with her very life if need be. Regardless, she swore no harm would come to anyone. She could not live with the guilt. Certain her injury was completely shielded, the young woman slid to her knees and opened her arms to the children. Still a bit shy, they walked to her and Kathleena tenderly embraced them both, truly wishing she was able to know them better before she left. Turning to Madeline, her expressive eyes implored the woman for help.

Their mother understood. "Poppets, your sister will be leaving us. She is going on a grand adventure! To America and…

"No!" Charlotte cried, clutching her waist tightly. "_Vous ne pouvez pas partir!" _(You can't leave!) With the passing of her father and brother still fresh in her child mind, she would now be losing another, no matter how briefly known. Kathleena knew her misery, she could feel it within herself. With firm resolve, she turned to the desk and jotted a quick note, which she handed to the little girl with a brilliant smile. The child bounced up and down excitedly, never having received a piece of post before. She showed it Charles and then to her mother.

"Mama, mama, what does it say?!"

Quickly scanning the words, Madeline looked up from the paper, stunned. "Are you certain?" Kathleena nodded with a slight smile. She would face any repercussions. "It says, Cherie that your sister will delay her trip. She wants to help you pick out your first pony."

* * *

Jolted from her reverie by a bump on the tracks, Kathleena could still hear her little screams of delight, still feel her tight hugs and kisses, still see her smile of happiness as Charlotte chose a striking Andalusian filly. "_Merci_ Kathleena! _Merci. Je t'aime_!" She was so very glad she'd stayed to witness the child's pleasure. Smiling with remembrance at her little sister's words of love, the Frenchwoman suddenly tensed as a man's hand fell firmly on her shoulder.

_Duncan! No, no of course not. _She shook herself. Staring straight ahead, she pulled a writing slate and chalk pencil out from under her cloak.'Yes?'

The conductor frowned as he looked upon her with deep pity. Such a lovely young woman - how awful it must be to live with such a terrible burden. Kathleena's blue eyes narrowed in fury. "I'm sorry to startle you, miss, but I was wondering if you would like something from the meal basket? I'd noticed you hadn't gone into the dining car this evening." She quickly scrawled the words 'coffee and apple,' wishing for the loathsome man to leave as soon as possible. Before moving on to other passengers, he paused at the sound of her fingers snapping, drawing his attention to new words she had scribed onto the slate. 'How long until we arrive at the station?' Pulling his timepiece from his pocket he replied, "About an hour or so." Kathleena nodded curtly in thanks.

As the man tipped his cap and moved on down the aisle, he felt a sudden overwhelming urge to gaze upon her. The moment the young woman boarded, she was a complete mystery to him. Not only was she forever silent, she never looked up when he or others addressed her. He wondered at the color of her eyes. Were they a soft blue? A deep green, perhaps? Quickly turning about, he immediately frowned in deep disappointment. Her head was lowered as she began to read a book placed in her lap. As she daintily munched her apple, Kathleena watched the conductor through a curtain of thick hair. Breathing in relief, she relaxed as he turned away with a shrug, going on with his business.

She was, of course, aware of his intentions the moment he touched her. Always on her guard, for if she was to look upon a man, any man, Duncan was certain to make that mistake the last one she would ever see. Kathleena shuddered at the thought.

Close to an hour later, the shrill sound of the train whistle blasted and the powerful engine slowly chugged to a stop with a deafening hiss of steam. Kathleena stared out at the sign illuminated by the gas lights placed on either side.

_Welcome to Pennsylvania. The village of Lancaster_.

Rising slowly, her stiff muscles screamed in protest. Having spent nearly five months aboard the prestigious ship, Acadia and another two riding the rails from the village of Bangor, Maine to her final destination, the journey from France had been a long one and she was truly pleased it was finally over. With a deep cleansing breath, the young woman debarked and stepped into the chilly night air. Gathering her warm cloak more tightly about her, Kathleena spotted a cozy inn across the road and smiled. It looked welcoming enough. Certain it was much too late to pay a visit on her possible benefactors, she strode across the street and entered the lobby, heading directly to the registration clerk. Looking upon no man, she was completely ignorant to several pairs of eyes devouring her petite form.

Rapping the desk with her knuckles, the man stared at Kathleena curiously. "May I help you, miss?"

At her gesture to write, he handed her a sheaf of paper and an inkwell, looking on as she scratched some words. 'I'd like a room for the night. I needs also board my horse and fetch my luggage. Both are at the station.'

Nodding he rang the bell. "Front!"

A young man quickly appeared beside her. Kathleena shook her head. Were there no women to serve her? Damning her own stubbornness, she wondered if she'd made a mistake having not hired help. Quickly, she realized that was impossible…_'Remember_, _with enough money, even your closest friend will betray you.' _Shaking her head, Kathleena had to continue on alone. (**_No, I can trust no one_**. **_Damn you, Duncan_**!)

"Derek, you will find this young lady's horse at the station. Deliver the animal to the livery and then retrieve her belongings."

The bellhop smirked as he blatantly ogled her. "I will need your papers, miss." Handing him the necessary documents, Kathleena's hand accidentally brushed his. Inhaling deeply in rage, her eyes narrowed ferociously.

**_(How dare you!)_**

A beautiful woman travelling alone, with no servant to assist her, the young man presumed she was nothing more than a beautifully uncommon streetwalker. Instantly, Kathleena pulled away. Staring at her, Derek shrugged, walking off to begin his duties. The clerk cleared his throat, gesturing her toward a ledger. As she signed, the woman was unaware of the striking gentleman sitting in the corner, staring at her over the edge of a newspaper, his gaze, intense, dark and haunted. A gaze that had trailed her the moment she entered.

_Why?_ He wondered, a slight frown wrinkling his gaunt and chiseled features.

Reading the name, the clerk exchanged a furtive glance with a burly man standing by the fire. So, _she_ was the one. "I shall send the boy up with your luggage when he returns, Miss Tell."

Taking the key from his outstretched hand, Kathleena closed her eyes and trembled in sudden fear.** (__****Mon** Dieu, already?) With abject misery, she realized Duncan _was _correct. No matter where she went or how far she traveled, there truly was no escape. With a silent cry, the Frenchwoman slowly ascended the stairs. Closing the door, she rested against its smooth surface, a tear sliding down her cheek. How many of his men would she encounter? How many? Exhausted and dejected, she shed her wrap. Finding the room stuffy, Kathleena flung open the doors that led out onto the balcony despite the chill of the night. Immediately, she collapsed across the bed and closed her eyes, completely unaware of the dark, penetrating gaze now fixated on her.

The gaunt gentleman from the lobby stood outside the doors of the veranda. Leaning on his wolf's head cane, he watched her as she slept restlessly. Something will happen to her. What, he wasn't certain, but something. He'd felt it the moment he saw her. Scowling darkly, he asked himself why he was here. Why he cared? She wasn't his concern. Perhaps, he was merely discontented; having arrived several days before his business venture or, perhaps, his gallant nature would not allow him to simply walk away. He stared at her closely, at the neckerchief that shielded her throat from his intense scrutiny.

_Hungry…Hungry_.

A loud knock sounded on the door. Growling low, he retreated into the dark shadows of night... Watching...waiting...

"Miss Tell? Miss Tell, it's me, Derek. I've brought your luggage."

Stirred from sleep with his constant drumming, Kathleena frowned. **_(__Leave them and be off you fool!)_**

The man smiled, baring gleaming white teeth.

"Miss Tell, please. I'm unsure I've collected the correct bags."

Smacking her hand against her forehead, she silently snarled. **(_How incompetent! You sir, are not a fool. You're an ass!)_**

Suddenly she froze as a soft chuckle, warm and deep sounded from the balcony. Smothering a yawn, Kathleena shook her head assuming her state of exhaustion was playing tricks on her mind. Certain no sleep would be had until she faced the rude man, she turned the key in the lock and the door immediately burst open.

"Good job, Derek," a dark voice growled from behind the bellhop. "Now get outta here!"

From the balcony, he tensed like a cobra, ready to strike. The frightened woman raised her hands to ward off the big man from the lobby as he marched inside and bolted the door, his hot gaze raking over her nastily. "Ya must know why I'm here," he smiled.

Nodding, Kathleena was certain she did. As she turned her head away, the man in the shadows could see her beautiful blue eyes, eyes filled with terror. **_(But_ _I've done nothing wrong! Nothing to deserve punishment…I have followed every order!) _**This man was here to harm her and she hadn't the power to plead for her life.** (****_Mon Dieu,) _**she prayed.**_ (Allow me to speak…Just once…) _**Turning toward the writing desk digging into her hip, the Frenchwoman hastily scribed a note and handed it to the threatening man, mistakenly closing the space between them. Her heart sank as he hooted and wadded her unread words tossing them into the fire.

"That ain't gonna work with me sweetie, I cain't read." She paled, knowing she had to elude him, had to reach the door. He caught her easily as she ran past. "Nuh-uh, honey, yer stayin' right here." As she struggled against him trying to free herself, he guffawed. "Ya sure are a feisty one, ain't ya?" Clutching her waist in his huge hands; he tossed her onto the bed so hard she bounced, knocking the air from her lungs. "Good, I love me a challenge."

Closing her eyes tightly, Kathleena shook as intense images flashed before her. This man planned to violently rape her and there was naught she could do to stop him!

The dark man clenched his teeth, feeling them lengthen along with his fury. He could take no more… _Just wait… wait… until the time is right... control yourself…_

Dropping heavily on top of her, the man's brutal mouth struggled to assault hers, his hands savagely ripping at her bodice**_. _**Tears poured from beneath closed lashes. **_(No Dear God! Noooo!)_**

Suddenly the frantic rape focused man stilled above her. Stunned, blue eyes flew open, her gaze instantly trained on the pale hand wrapped tightly about her attacker's throat; a black onyx ring glittering brightly from the forefinger. The ruffian was easily hoisted above her defender's head and Kathleena leapt from the bed, finally free. Watching on in horror as the big brute was heaved over the balcony with inhuman force she winced at a loud pop breaking the silence, the man's neck snapping as he landed on the street below.

Returning to her room, she wrapped her arms about herself sinking to the floor in despair and shock, shivering at the thought of what might have happened if... Why? Will violence follow her everywhere she went?

"He can harm you no longer."

Kathleena trembled at the sound of the heavily English accented voice. A voice that sounded so kind and so full of concern. Suddenly she froze with a startling realization. She yearned to look up at him, to thank him. She shook her head, completely aware the consequences of such an action would bring. **(_Mon Dieu! _****_What am I thinking?!) _**Without another word, her mysterious savior walked away. For reasons she herself did not understand, Kathleena frowned at his abrupt departure, unaware of the tall slim silhouette standing in the shadows of her terrace; large fingers wrapped firmly around the handle of his walking stick.

Instantly, wolves began to bay loudly in the distance and he glanced over his shoulder, shaking his head. No matter the place, no matter the time they knew, always knew when his craving was pressing heavily upon him. Swiftly, his penetrating gaze returned to the woman as she slowly raised herself from her knees. Hearing the howls, she knew the only thing she had to look forward to was another sleepless night. With pale blue eyes wide and full of panic, Kathleena placed a hand to her temple. _**(Perfect!) **_

Retreating further into the safety of the shadows, he watched as she began to pace the room, pausing as she caught a glimpse of her image in the mirror. She was an absolute fright! Shedding her torn gown, Kathleena stepped closer to her reflection, unknowingly giving him an unobstructed view of her delicate body clad in nothing but her flimsy chemise and stockings tied about slim thighs with simple bows. Inhaling sharply in surprise, he began to feel long crushed sensations stir within him. It's been so long, so long! Although he frowned at his dark thoughts of disloyalty, he found could not turn away from the vision of loveliness so blatantly offered.

Perversely, Kathleena pulled the material away from her throat and glared at her image. These many months of travel had healed her hurts, only to leave a gruesome scar as a reminder of her anguish. Duncan was right... She is a freak!

_**(Nooooo!) **_As tears of pain and defeat slid down her face, she ran to the mantle, clutched a heavy candlestick and flung it angrily into her reflection. _**(Kathleena, vous êtes un imbécile!) **_(You are an imbecile!) Bending down to pick up the damage, she quickly pulled her hand away, having jabbed herself on a pointed shard of glass.

Perceptively, dark eyes widened as pupils dilated, obsessed on the large red drop that welled on her hand. Left unstaunched, he followed the trail of blood down to her wrist. Large fingers tightly seized the wolf head handle of his cane and he closed his eyes, breathing deeply the sweet scent of her essence. Unconsciously, an icy tongue ran over cold lips in anticipation. She would taste exquisite. Stepping forward, pure shock crossed his thin features. He was at a loss. She had been through enough for one night, he would not take her!

What the hell? His need was more important than anything else! Nothing mattered more! He didn't know her, why should he care? As the wolves' distant howls now turned ferocious, he frowned, reluctantly hurrying off in search of what he craved, what he desperately needed. Below, a crowd began to gather around the dead man.

* * *

Standing in the shadows across the street from the saloon; desire and need heightened his senses. A dark penetrating gaze fixated on the lone patron; a curvaceous blonde scantily dressed. Concentrating on her every move, he watched intently as she staggered up to the counter. Raising his brows, his eyes glittered brightly in the moonlight. _Yes... yes…she'll do… She must!_ he thought, stepping back into the darkness of the alley.

"C'mon Sadie," the bartender complained as he wiped out the last of the glasses. "Closing time."

Placing a hand on the man's arm she leaned into him, her eyes rheumy. "Aw, just one more Clancy, huh?"

He shook his head. "You're stewed. Besides, you know the rules. Closing time is closing time, Go sleep it off and I'll see you tomorrow."

Grabbing her satchel from the bar, the whore clutched it to her massive breasts and tottered out into the dark street. Sighing, she realized it had been an altogether disappointing night. Doing more drinking than she'd intended, Sadie knew she would have nothing more to show for it but a terrible headache in the morning. As she stumbled between two brick buildings toward her room over the restaurant, the fog quickly rolled in, thick and cold.

Drawing her wrap tightly about her curves, she saw him… There, under the lamplight. Her wavering eyes narrowed. A gentleman, to be sure, tall and gaunt; an elegant inverness cape draped over his shoulders. If she was back in jolly ole England, she'd swear she was looking at a bloomin' member of the royal family. Greedily, her gaze fell to his ring shining like a beacon in the light. Ahh, the bloke was loaded. "Looks like yer luck's about ta change, Sadie ole gal." she whispered.

Watching her saunter up to him, trying to seduce his fists clenched and unclenched with each step she took. He groaned, nearly wild with want. Noticing that hunger, that unmistakable lust in his gaze, she smiled. This was going to be easier than she'd hoped. Lifting her hand to the hollow pocket of his cheek, she licked her painted lips. "Would ye be lookin' for some company ta'night, luv?" she said huskily, her voice dripping with false desire. Pressing herself deeply into him, Sadie was certain he could feel her nipples that had hardened from the cold night air. "I 'ave a place ready an' waitin'."

His dark gaze narrowed and he growled quietly, watching the pulse pound madly in her throat. A sexual tryst was not what he was after. No, not at all! As quick as a viper, he clutched her wrist in his large, icy fingers dragging her with him into the darkness of the alleyway. She was forced to run to keep pace with his giant desperate strides. His all consuming need taking complete control, he spun her around slamming her face first against the coldness of the brick wall.

"C'mon luv, I know some of ye like it rough but 'tis a new dress." Ignored, she felt him press himself firmly against her back. With his hips against her Sadie frowned. He wasn't in the least bit hard. Her brow furrowed as he quickly brushed the hair away from the nape of her neck. Kissing her warm skin with his icy lips, he felt uncontrollable shivers course through her soft body. Unable to deny the urge any longer, a firm hand covered her mouth. The woman lurched up as a sharp piercing pain engulfed her. Feeling her spiral, a strong arm wound tightly about her waist and together they slid to the cobblestones.

Eyes closed, he drank deeply and steadily; his loud swallows the only sound in the empty night. Suddenly, unwanted thoughts invaded his mind. Thoughts of a beautiful woman with stunning blue eyes. Instinctively, he knew this whore could not remotely compare to her delicious taste. Focusing on his need, he forced the picture away. Quickly sated, he removed his mark from the whore's flesh. As an afterthought, his fingers fell to the woman's pulse. Fast and steady. She would live... they always did. He was certain never to take more than was necessary to survive.

After the feed, as always his guilt was ferocious. "Damn you Angelique, you bitch!" he growled, as thoughts turned to the witch who, using a jealous fueled spell, compelled him to commit this despicable act. Pacing, he spotted the woman's satchel lying on the ground. He grabbed it and tossed in a large amount of cash, a feeble attempt to ease his inconsolable conscience. Retreating into the shadows, he watched as the woman slowly regained her wits. Stepping forward, he took her arm to steady her. "Are you all right, Miss?"

Startled, Sadie looked up and found something oddly tranquilizing in the handsome man's deep stare. Placing her fingertips to her head, she trembled. "Yes," she nodded slowly. "Thank ye, luv. 'Tis very strange…I don't know what 'appened."

"Perhaps you should see a doctor," he suggested knowing that had she done so the man would be as baffled as she. Sadie shook her head and leaned against the fine gentleman, grateful for his assistance. Her head still spinning, a fine drizzle began to fall and the cobblestones were now as slick as ice.

"No, I'll be a'right. Yer very kind ta worry. Most blokes wouldn't give a second thought to someone like me, unless-" Letting her voice trail off they walked in silence to the end of the dark passageway. Looking up, she smiled. "Ahh, 'ome sweet 'ome." Grabbing the key from under the mat, she unlocked the door. "Would ye care ta come in, luv? I promise ta make it worth yer while." At his curious silence, she turned immediately drawn into the glowing depths of his burning eyes.

"You will remember nothing of this," he whispered, his voice hypnotic and deep. "You were at the tavern and now you are home. We'd never met. Do you understand?"

"I understand." she answered, trancelike.

As he strolled away, Sadie jolted, astonished to find herself standing alone in the cold mist. Not remembering leaving the saloon, she shook her head. _I must be more sloshed then I thought._ With a sigh, she reached into her bag; her blonde brow creasing as her hand brushed against something strange. Slowly, she pulled out a roll of bills. Holding more money than she'd ever seen in her life, her shrill scream of delight brought a sad smile to his icy lips.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The following afternoon...

Dashing from room to room, Page Vogel nearly burst with thrilling news. "Tierra," he shouted excitedly. "Darling, where are you?"

A slender woman ran into his arms, giggling as he grabbed her by the waist and twirled her about. "Page, I was occupied with the accounts. My goodness, what is it? Tell me before you have an attack."

Setting her onto her feet, Page held her close as he glanced down at the letter in his hand. "Great news, sweetheart. The best! Last spring, I'd spoken of a gentleman from Collinsport, Maine, do you remember?"

Tierra thought for a moment. "Oh yes! The man who owns the largest shipyard on the east coast, correct?"

Nodding, Page handed her the paper. "Yes, Barnabas Collins. Truthfully, it is his family who handles the transport business. Mr. Collins himself is a breeder of exceptional Arabians." Tierra trembled as her fiancé's pleasure turned his voice thick. "Darling, the man is coming here! He wishes to discuss business!" Tierra beamed up at him. She couldn't help but share in his excitement. It was her beloved's lifelong wish to become a respected horse breeder and trainer.

She kissed him on the tip of his nose and Page smiled as she clutched the sheet scanning the words. "I don't understand," she frowned, looking up at him. "This was dated over a month ago. It says he will be arriving by the end of the week?"

"Yes I know. There was a problem with the post. You can be certain I have taken the responsible party to task."

She giggled. "Yes, I'm sure. Well I will go instruct the servants to ready a room for our guest."

Page was so ecstatic he wanted her to stay and share in his happiness. Clutching her hand, he pulled her tightly into his strong embrace. "Tierra!" he whispered against her lips. "Arabians! Think of the possibilities!" She opened her mouth to answer and he kissed her fervently until they were disrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. Page growled, pulling away."Yes, James. What is it?"

The man reddened. "I do apologize, sir but I believe there is a situation that requires your attention." At his master's raised eyebrows, he added, "in the entryway." Curious, Tierra followed the pair. An attractive young woman stood in the vestibule, a paper clutched tightly between her long fingers.

"How do you do, Miss, I am Page Vogel. Might I be of assistance?" Wordlessly, Kathleena handed him the missive. Frowning down at the top of her head, he glanced at the envelope. "Why Tierra…this is addressed to you."

Surprised, her brow furrowed as she took the note. Who could possibly be writing her? Breaking the seal, she smiled at the signature. "Oh," she thrilled, "It's from Madeline! I haven't heard from her in ages." Slowly, the smile disappeared from her lips as she quickly read her aunt's disturbing words. Finished, Tierra looked from the woman to her beloved. "James, please offer our guest some refreshments in the white room." With a bow, the servant led the quiet miss into a large salon. "Page, I need to speak to you. Immediately."

Following Tierra to the study, he closed the door. "Darling, what is this? Who is she?"

Taking the chair behind the desk, she rubbed her temples. Where to start? "Darling, my Aunt Madeline has written Miss Kathleena Tell..." gesturing with a slim hand, "...a letter of introduction. She states that when the woman's studies in England came to an end, she returned to her father's estate in France. There, she found herself in such an abhorrent situation, it was too dangerous for her to remain any longer. The most horrible part is that Miss Tell has been rendered mute. Her only form of expression is through writing." She stood and came to him. "I know that this is a terrible burden for you, particularly since Mr. Collins's unexpected arrival is imminent, but please, might she stay?"

Pulling her tightly against him, Page gazed down into her beautiful features. "Of course she may. Perhaps you and she will become fast friends." He then smiled broadly. "I believe this is truly fate for I am not at all certain how long Collins plans to remain in Lancaster. I may find that I will not have as much time to devote to you as I do now." Placing a loving kiss on Tierra's wrist, he patted her hand. "Shall we rejoin our new house guest?"

Sitting before a roaring fire and sipping a hearty cup of coffee, the Frenchwoman rose to her feet as the doors to the great room opened and Page Vogel approached. "Welcome to our home, Miss Tell." Refusing the hand he held out to her in hospitality, she instead bowed graciously in thanks. Vowing to no longer use her abilities, Kathleena decided she had sufficient problems of her own, she didn't wish to experience others' thoughts of sorrow and misfortune. Casting Tierra a look of confusion, Page frowned. Puzzled herself, she shrugged. "And may I introduce Madeline's niece, Tierra Benjamin." His black brow furrowed even deeper as Kathleena lifted her head, smiling warmly to her in greeting. Something was going on, something strange but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Calling for his butler, Page issued his instructions. "James, this is Miss Kathleena Tell." The servant bowed to the young woman. "She will be staying with us until further notice. Show her to the green room, please."

"Yes sir, immediately. If you will please come with me."

Noticing Kathleena's hesitancy, comprehension dawned. She was extremely fearful of men. "Hold James." Page turned towards Tierra. "Darling, perhaps it would be best if you show her the way." He actually noticed Kathleena's body physically relax. "The green room, darling." Tierra nodded with a smile. As Page watched the women ascend the staircase, he jerked violently at the touch of a hand on his sleeve. "What is it, James?"

Following his master's line of vision, the servant shook his head. "Sir, her mare is tied to the post. Shall I deliver the animal to the stables?"

Page held up a finger until he heard the closing of a door. He'd always valued his butler's opinion, having known the man since he was a tyke. "Wait. Tell me. What is your honest impression of her?" The butler frowned. "Forgive me for saying sir, but never have I seen a woman so terrorized. I can only compare her to someone who has been beaten down, almost afraid to face…"

Page interrupted, "Almost afraid to face what the future holds?" At his servant's nod, Page muttered to himself, "Yes, I believe that is it exactly." His man continued, more from a personal, wistful perspective. "It is such a shame. The miss is so very lovely. She has her whole life ahead of her. For one so young, she should not be so downhearted."

Lost in thought, Page said belatedly, "Thank you... yes, please see to her mount."

* * *

"Miss Tell, this will be your room. I trust you will find it comfortable." Tierra said as she opened the double doors. Kathleena smiled as she entered. True to its name, the room was painted in various shades of vert. A huge mahogany Elizabethan canopy stood upon a raised dais in the center of the room. A feminine vanity and writing desk stood against one wall. An ornate armoire graced another. Overwhelmed by the beauty of the room, she turned to her hostess. Tierra could see intense gratitude radiating from her expressive eyes.

Scratching a few lines on her slate, Kathleena handed the board to Tierra. 'Words cannot express how much I appreciate your and your fiancé's hospitality. Merci.'

Tierra smiled. "There is no need for thanks, Miss Tell."

Quickly, she snapped her fingers and Tierra returned her slate. 'Kathleena.'

"Kathleena," she confirmed. "And I am Tierra. Oh, where can I send a servant to retrieve your luggage?"

The French woman scribbled more words, causing Tierra to frown slightly. 'The inn, room twenty-seven.'

"I will see to it...Dinner is at six. Rest now, my dear." Stepping out into the hall, Tierra rested her head against the door. A kind hearted and compassionate woman, a tear coursed down her cheek as she sadly wondered how Kathleena had lost her speech.

Kathleena sniffed as she leaned against the door. There was so much pity everywhere she went. How she detested that emotion. Suddenly her gaze flew to the comfortable looking bed. Having gotten, at most an hours' worth of rest this morning, she slid between the sheets and inhaled deeply allowing sleep to pull her into its comforting embrace. As she began to doze, her thoughts returned to the previous night. She shuddered violently recalling how close she'd come to being viciously violated by that brutal animal.

And then- her thoughts turned to her rescuer. Why had she felt so tempted to gaze up into his face as he stood beside her? Why, for she knew the severe punishment that would surely befall her. Just the idea of her disobeying Duncan's order made Kathleena realize that the Englishman was a danger to her. He may have been in association with her betrothed. Suddenly she shot up, nearly physically ill as she mentally tied Duncan's name with the words 'her betrothed'. Breathing deeply, she fell back against the pillows. The last conscious thought before sleep finally claimed her was the secure knowledge that she had no further plans to return to town. The chances were slight of her running into the man ever again...

Unconsciously, her mind spun... the man with the magnificently delicious voice.

* * *

Hours later

Kathleena awoke feeling totally revived. Glancing at the clock on the mantel, she read half past five. Dinner would be served shortly. Quickly freshening herself at the washbowl and, with a brush from the vanity, she tended her hair. There wasn't much she could do about her rumpled gown, she frowned, unless – Quietly, she opened the door and smiled. Her bags were neatly placed in the hall. As she stooped to tug a piece into her room, a thick voice addressed her. "Miss Tell?" She froze. "I'm sorry to startle you. Can I offer some assistance?" Kathleena nodded her thanks and he easily hoisted her luggage into the room, placing them before the armoire. Clearing his throat, he stepped forward, frowning as the young woman withdrew. Holding up his hands in mock surrender, he continued, trying to sound reassuring. "Believe me please, you've nothing to fear. No one is going to harm you."

She frowned. (**_If only_****…) **

"I actually came to your room with a purpose. I wish to speak with you for a moment." Surprised, Kathleena raised her brows but addressed him as before, her head lowered. "My fiancée, Tierra... not only is she my betrothed, she is my helpmate, my partner in the business... she is with me constantly." Page looked at her before continuing, "That being the case, she does not have many social contacts and is in great need of a friend. I would appreciate-" Kathleena raised her hand and lifted her face to him. Although her eyes were firmly closed, she nodded her head and smiled. "Thank you, Miss Tell."

With a shake of her head she turned to the desk, jotting a few lines on paper. 'No, Monsieur Vogel. Thank you! Please, I am Kathleena._'_

"Page," he grinned, lowering her words. "I shall leave you to change." As an afterthought, he turned. "Might I provide a servant to assist you during your stay?"

Although she knew she would have trouble with her buttons on her gown, Kathleena smiled gratefully but shook her head, refusing his generous offer. Duncan's warnings of betrayal had forced her to care for herself for months and she would continue on alone. Actually, she had become surprisingly self-sufficient.

Bowing genteelly, he added, "I look forward to seeing you at dinner."

The meal was very pleasant indeed. She listened closely as the couple bantered, vigorously debating their distinct opinions on various sheep breeding methods. She smiled when Page happily spoke of the future possibility of changing the entire property over to breeding the fine Arabians he hoped to garner from this Mr. Barnabas Collins. Kathleena greatly appreciated their friendly overts as the pair tried to include her in their discussions, asking yes and no questions to which she could simply nod or shake her head.

Tierra swallowed a delicious bite of seasoned potato. "Kathleena, from where in France do you hail?" Her eyes lit up with hope. "Paris?" she asked breathlessly. The Frenchwoman charmingly wrinkled her nose and shook her head.

"Darling," Page said in a hushed whisper, "she has no pad, surely she is unable to answer that question." They turned at the sound of snapping fingers. As the couple sat across from her, Kathleena placed her finger on the tablecloth. With her other hand, she wrote an invisible letter P. "Paris?" Page asked. She nodded, pleased. Running her finger along the table up and to the left, she tapped her nail three times.

"Oh I see," Tierra replied. "You are northwest of Paris."

Kathleena nodded and clapped her hands gaily. A servant stepped forward. "More lamb, Miss Tell?"

As she chose a piece, Tierra whispered to Page. "Yes love, I believe you are right. I am certain we shall become great friends. She is a gem."

Smiling at her breathtaking face so close to his, he forgot himself for a moment and playfully nipped her earlobe. "See, I told you so."

Lowering her head, Kathleen felt suddenly uncomfortable, having witnessed something intimate, something she realized she herself would never experience. Wiping a napkin across her lips, she stood and rushed from the room.

"No, wait," Page said as Tierra began to follow. "Let her be. I'm fairly certain there is more to this than my simple show of affection toward you although I must admit, that wasn't well done of me at all. Remember, she's a stranger in a land foreign to her. Give her some time to adjust, some breathing room as they say."

He groaned as she bestowed on him a look of such love and longing, reluctantly turning his attention back to his plate.

* * *

The full moon hung like a bright lantern in the dark sky guiding her way as she ran from the manor. Pausing at the sound of a familiar nicker, she strode toward the stables and smiled, rubbing her mare's velvety nose.

**(_What's the matter, darling? B_****_ored?) _**Opening the paddock she took hold of the horse's halter and clicked her tongue leading the animal down the gas lit drive. Kathleena heard the trickling of water off in the distance and headed toward the sound, discovering a babbling stream beside the path. Sitting upon the ground, she waited as her mount drank from the cold stream and grazed that last bits of green grass.

All of a sudden, the horse lifted her head with a snort, causing Kathleena to peer into the darkness.

**(_What is it, girl? What's out there?)_**

Pinning her ears back, Deidra immediately shrieked, galloping back to the shelter in fright.

**_(_**_**Fantastic****!) **_

As she stood brushing the dry leaves from her bottom, Kathleena felt as if she was being watched.

(**_No, not again!_**)

Her heart began to thump wildly in her breast as she tried frantically to locate the source of her panic. She froze as a massive dog stepped out of the forest. With a coat, jet black and golden eyes, intense and burning the creature sat down before her. She could hear the animal's weighty breath as it focused on her face, could see its huge tongue unfurling over sharp fangs that glistened in the moonlight, licking its lips loudly.

Knowing she shouldn't stare, shouldn't challenge the beast, Kathleena was alarmed to find that she could neither turn away from nor close her eyes against its gaze.

The wolf suddenly ambled toward her, quickly closing the gap between them. Staring straight ahead and forcing herself to remain calm lest the beast sense her fear and attack, she felt something soft brush against her. Looking down, she realized that it was rubbing its enormous head against her firm thigh, startling her as it uttered such a mournful howl. An immediate wave of despair washed over her. For what reason she did not understand, Kathleena felt strangely connected to this creature and, despite the obvious danger, slowly, cautiously ran her long fingers through its smooth pelt. Apparently the dog enjoyed her gentle touch for its icy tongue began to vigorously, almost passionately lick the rapid pulse in her warm wrist. She sighed and closed her eyes at the odd sensation, unaware that the dogs strong jaws were open, ready to clamp down, when a woman's voice called out. "Kathleena! Kathleena? Where are you?"

Snarling low in its throat, the animal sprinted off, surprisingly soundless for being of such a size. "There you are," Tierra said. "When your horse returned without you, the stable boy- well- you're all right now." Noting the woman's dilated eyes and look of confusion, Tierra grabbed her hand. "You _are_ alright aren't you?" Kathleena nodded with a reassuring smile, peering in vain into the darkness of the forest. As they returned to the house, neither was aware of the gaunt man with intense burning eyes standing at the edge of the woods, watching them. Running his icy tongue over his cold lips, he growled deep in his throat, the sound remarkably animalistic.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The first of November dawned extremely cold with a thin layer of frost coating the hard, dry ground. Her host and hostess sat in the morning room breaking their fast when Kathleena appeared in the doorway. Tierra waved her to enter as she sipped her tea. "Good morning, dear. Did you have a restful night's sleep?" She nodded, smiling in thanks as a servant stepped forward to seat her. "Shall I ask cook to prepare you something special?" Kathleena shook her head helping herself to a delicious cup of coffee and a piece of plain toast.

The couple frowned at each other. Page cleared his throat. "Wouldn't you care for a sausage link or slice of bacon? They are equally delicious." She shook her head. "Some egg, perhaps?" Patting her stomach, Kathleena frowned. "I see," he responded, understanding her dilemma. "I'm sorry you aren't feeling well."

After luncheon, while Tierra was busy with the cook planning the menu for the upcoming week, Kathleena skipped happily as she headed toward the stables. Her nausea had all but disappeared throughout the morning and she felt the sudden urge to go riding. Deidra buffeted her head firmly against her mistress's shoulder when she approached. Kathleena smiled as she prepared the mare for their outing. **_(I do not accept your apology, you traitor! Leave me again and it's off to the glue factory for you!) _**She patted her horse's fat sides**_._** (**_Ah! You've been eating your head off, girl. I believe you need this ride more than I_**_._)

A cold wind whipped wildly about them causing her to quiver. Grabbing an extra saddle blanket, Kathleena hopped up onto Deidra's back and, draping the woolen material about her shoulders, trotted the bay from the paddock down the maple lined drive. The autumn foliage she so admired a few days ago had shed from the trees, leaving bare branches in its wake.

Flicking the reins, Kathleena urged the horse into a brisk gallop. She smiled happily as she realized, for the first time in a long while, how wonderful she truly felt! The icy nip in the air did nothing to tamp her spirits. Deidra suddenly snorted, tossing her head. Kathleena patted her neck lovingly. (**_See my darling; a week ago you would not have become so breathless this soon._**) Spotting a small pond, Kathleena dismounted and led the horse to drink. (**_All right girl,) _**she rubbed the mare's long ears. (**_I suppose you've earned a bit of a rest_**.) As she waited for Deidra to satisfy her thirst, Kathleena pulled the saddle blanket more tightly about her thin form and glanced across the water.

She shook her head, trembling. Every time she came across a large body of water. Every time! Memories fought to draw her again into the past, to the day of Pierre's death. (**_Not again! No, Mon Dieu_**.) Although she was able to curb the vivid images she couldn't help but remember. Burying her face in her hands, Kathleena sobbed silently. So lost in her misery, she failed to hear the crunch of footsteps approaching from behind. She inhaled sharply as strong fingers dug painfully into her shoulder and turned her about. She stared up into hell itself. (**_Duncan_**!)

He savagely clutched her throat. Instinctively, she raised her hand to fight him off and then stilled. It wouldn't do any good. Either he would kill her or he wouldn't. He took much pleasure in her pain, her fear. Although truly horrified, Kathleena vowed she would not satisfy him this day.

Despite her valiant effort to remain passive, the terror in her beautiful eyes gratified him enormously. Duncan shoved her away, causing her to stumble to the hard ground.

Glaring up at him, Kathleena sadly noted that he bore no scars from the grotto when she had dug her nails into him.

He smiled evilly. "They were not that deep. You are not strong enough to cause me any lasting damage. Know that." Quickly, he changed the subject. "You seem rather surprised to see me. I am a man of my word. Did you truly think I would not come? I warned you. Remember?"

Suddenly she closed her eyes as his words of long ago came back to her. _Do not become too at ease while in America. You never know when the precise moment will come, but one day you will turn around only to find me standing there. _

Dear Lord! How could she have forgotten?

"Explain yourself!" He snarled. She arched a shapely brow. "I've lost a good man because of you." Duncan scowled at her genuine look of uncertainty. "At the inn," he reminded her sternly.

Kathleena's face grew pale. Quickly scanning the ground, she found a sharp stick. He watched dispassionately as she struggled to scrape words into the frozen earth. 'Tried to rape. Not good!'

He seized her arm, twisting it painfully behind her as he pulled up against him. "So?" he hissed, "you should have allowed it. In fact," he mocked her viciously, "you should have felt greatly honored. How many men do you assume will actually give you a second glance?" With his free hand, Duncan grasped her neckerchief, yanking it away from her throat. "Especially while you bear 'that'?" he said in disgust.

Kathleena winced at his cutting words and wrenched herself away. Without thinking, she struck him hard across the face, causing his head to snap back, more in surprise rather than pain. His eyes shot blue flames and instinctively Kathleena raised her hand to her throat, stepping away. As tense as a frightened rabbit, she readied herself to run.

Duncan viciously grabbed her slim waist, squeezing the breath from her, laughing as he began to pull her deeply into the forest. Reaching out, she tried to clutch Deidra's reins. "She cannot help you. No one can."

(**_No!_**)

She couldn't, she wouldn't allow him hurt her again. Kathleena fought valiantly. With arms and legs thrashing wildly, she tried to scratch and bite him until Duncan, growing bored, fiercely slammed his fist against her jaw and she slid into unconsciousness.

* * *

The sun was beginning to set as she was jostled awake stiffening when she realized she was thrown over his shoulder.

"Good," he smiled, callously allowing her to drop face first to the frozen ground. "I was afraid you were going to sleep through it all. Where would be the fun in that?" He glared down at her lying in a crumpled heap. She stared up at him, dazed from her fall.

"Now, what to do?" he said, tapping his lips as if in thought. "What to do?" She trembled more from fear of what horror he was planning than the cold. "Chilly are you? Don't fret. You will be warm so enough," She shivered at his unholy smile and cryptic words.

Dragging Kathleena along with him, Duncan gathered dead twigs. She watched him start a small fire. Brutally, he spun and clutching one of her ankles pulling her leg out from under her. In pain, she cringed as he slid something metal from his belt loop. Holding it up before her, he turned the tool allowing the firelight to reflect from it.

"Do you know what this is, Kathleena?" Narrowing her blue eyes, she studied it. Finally, she shook her head. He laughed maniacally as he placed it into the flames. "Before this night is over, you will."

He turned to her then, his eyes gleaming. "It would please me so much more if only I could hear your screams of agony. Oh well," he shrugged. "No matter." Raising his boot, he aimed a malicious kick into her side. Kathleena's sharp intake of breath made him smile broadly.

"Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps I am going to enjoy this greatly." Closing her eyes tightly, she felt heavy snowflakes strike her face, feverishly praying he would kill her, as she felt his next kick connect with her ribs...

* * *

A deep knock reverberated throughout the hall as James answered the door. "Yes sir, may I help you?"

A gaunt, elegantly clad gentleman stood in the entryway. "Barnabas Collins to see Page Vogel."

The butler nodded with a smile. "Mr. Collins, of course. My master is expecting you." He stood aside to allow the man entrance. "Please allow me to take your cloak."

Page extended his hand as he stepped into the room."Welcome to my home, Mr. Collins."

Pumping his host's hand firmly, Barnabas replied, "Mr. Vogel. I am very pleased to meet you, finally. I must truly apologize for my delay in acknowledging your correspondence but as you are certain to sympathize, business can be, at times ... all-consuming."

Smiling, Page surreptitiously rubbed his hand against his thigh. "No need to explain. I completely understand." Turning toward his servant in an attempt to hide his discomfort from the gentleman, Page frowned. When he'd shaken the man's hand, it was as cold as ice. He could still feel the deep chill.

"James, we will be in the study. No interruptions."

Leading the Englishman down the corridor to his private domain, Page heard the sharp snap of his guest's walking stick as it touched the floor with every step. "What an unusual piece. Very attractive indeed." Barnabas nodded in thanks. Opening the double doors, his host bid him entrance and motioned to a chair.

"Would you care for a drink, Mr. Collins?" He shook his head. "It's Barnabas. Thank you, no. Please..."

Page poured himself a scotch and soda and took a seat across from the elegant man. "And I am Page. Well now, about your horses..."

An hour later, their business concluded, both men completely satisfied with the outcome. Page rubbed his hands together in anticipation. He was now the proud owner of two stallions and four mares. Collins promised delivery before the height of the breeding season. Page thrilled, looking forward to the day when his property would be home to dozens of the beautiful beasts.

Standing at the window, Barnabas gazed up at the starry night sky when suddenly the doors burst open. Frowning Page groaned, "James, I thought I -"

Smiling at his fiancée, he introduced her. "Barnabas Collins… my betrothed, Tierra Benjamin." As the Englishman bowed in greeting, he could see intense panic in the young woman's eyes. An emotion he had seen countless times before. Page too, recognized her deep worry.

"Love, what has happened?" Running into his strong arms, Tierra tugged the lapels of his suit, something she did only when she felt truly out of sorts. "What's wrong?"

She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "Oh darling, she's missing!" Utterly confused Page asked, "She? She who…? Kathleena?"

Barnabas's head shot up at the mention of the name. He quickly explained. "A house guest at the moment." Nodding, he anxiously waited for the woman to continue.

"I went to fetch her for dinner and she wasn't in her room. I questioned Bridget in passing. Believing she saw Kathleena head toward the stables after lunch, I checked with the groomsman." Tierra choked back an ugly sob. "He informed me that Deidra returned to the paddock without her. Page, I checked the horse myself. The mare looked absolutely mad with fright." She broke down finally, crying hysterically against his chest.

Turning to his guest, Page apologized. "I'm sorry –"

Barnabas interrupted. "There's no need, but I would like to offer to assist in the search."

Stunned, Tierra looked up at the handsome gentleman; eyes red from tears. "Thank you Mr. Collins. She is in great danger, I know it."

As Page assisted his fiancée in readying a bundle of essentials, the Englishman headed for the stables.

Deidra screamed, eyes rolling, ears pinned back as he led the mare from the stall. "Whoa girl," he said, carefully buffeting her side. Glowering darkly, he could find no signs of foul play. No blood, no injuries. Nothing. "If only you could speak…"

Page entered, handing him a large sack. "Take it please, Tierra… she's worried that something terrible has happened to Kathleena…" Then he lowered his voice. "Truthfully, so am I."

Barnabas looked at him. "I am a superb tracker. Stay with your fiancé." He couldn't allow Page to stand in his way to do what he must. Ever since meeting Kathleena, ever since she was nearly raped at the inn, he felt an overwhelming desire to see her again. What he did not understand was why? Determined to know the reason, he first must find her.

Leading his stallion from the stall, Barnabas grasped the horse's mane and mounted his bare back. Page cringed for the beast but quickly realized that the animal obviously found no pain in his owner's actions. "Wait! There's something you must know about the young woman. She's a mute -"

Barnabas nodded knowingly. At Page's look of surprise, he quickly explained. "I've already met her. At the inn." Turning to leave, he suddenly remembered. "Oh, wait! My cane!"

"You left it on my desk. I'll fetch it."

Alone, Barnabas trotted his horse next to Kathleena's. Leaning over, he inhaled the mare's unique scent, committing it to memory. He quickly sat back as Page returned, casting the Englishman a curious glance. Sliding the cane through his belt loop, he clutched the sack. "Please assure your fiancé that I shall find her friend."

* * *

Following Deidra's hoof prints back into the forest, he cursed loudly as the trail was lost under freshly fallen snow. This was taking too damn long! Shaking his head, he summoned upon his immortal powers. Eyes reddening perceptively, Barnabas began to see the auras of life forms emerge. Deer and rabbits, disturbed by this newcomer, darted between the trees and along the brush and brambles.

Sniffing the air, a long elegant nose singled out Deidra's scent. He turned Dalmiir east. "Come." Riding on, he paused every few minutes to search the area. Suddenly, Barnabas drew up short. In the distance he could see a pack of wolves taking shape, investigating the ground, their growls, low and deep. As he charged Dalmiir into the group, the wolves scattered but only for a brief instant. Sliding from his stallion's back, the man unsheathed the deadly rapier hidden in the shaft of his cane.

He spotted the young woman he was searching for; lying on her side in the snow, the aura radiating from her slight form was very faint. He knew he had to get to her soon or he would be too late.

"Dalmiir… Protect!"

The horse screamed in answer to his master's command. The vicious pack charged toward the pair. Immediately, two creatures lay dead from Barnabas's blade, their blood turning the snow crimson. A third was slain when the stallion kicked the beast in its side with such force the animal flew through the air, snapping its spine against the wide trunk of an oak tree.

There were two remaining; the alpha male and his mate. Crouching low, Barnabas trembled violently as his human form suddenly vanished, instantly replaced by a wolf of enormous size. His pelt, jet black, golden eyes and sharp fangs glistened challengingly. Not wishing to lose his prize, the leader of the pack snarled, charging. It pounced, sharp claws and teeth bared for the kill. In an instant, Barnabas reared up on his hind legs. Swiftly grabbing his enemy by the throat, he shook his head firmly. The wolf's lifeless body landed in the snow, its jugular hanging from deadly jaws. The final animal was no match and, howling mournfully at the loss of her mate, scampered off into the woods. Morphing into man once more, Barnabas rushed back to the woman, falling to his knees beside her. As she took shallow breaths, small plumes rose into the frigid night air. Feeling the pulse in her throat, he found it very erratic. Slowly, he turned her face to him and reeled back on his heels. Her face was extremely bruised, her jaw so swollen he couldn't match her to the woman at the inn. This was obviously not a random beating. He shook his head. Instinctively, Barnabas knew the man who had done this to her took great pleasure in making her suffer. She knew her abuser well. He had no time to further dwell on her situation, he had to get her warm if she was to live… But where? She was in no condition to travel. A thought came to him. The cave, of course! He spotted it last evening while secretly inspecting the property. It was but a few minutes away. Gently, Barnabas scooped her light weight into his strong arms. Although unconscious, Kathleena felt something pressing against her, causing her incredible agony. A single tear slid down her battered cheek.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The snowfall began to intensify as they approached the safety of the den. Reluctantly, Barnabas draped his delicate burden facedown across Dalmiir's warm flesh as he entered the shelter to investigate. Needing no light, he quickly scanned the area for any living auras. The cave was nearly bare but for an unused fire pit and the partial skeletal remains of a poor unfortunate who had died a violent death by a wild animal.

Removing his cloak, Barnabas placed it on the ground and went to fetch Kathleena. Her pale stare was filled with excruciating agony as he came to her. The pain, too great to allow her to turn away, she instead closed her eyes, trembling at the man's nearness.

"I am here to help you Miss Tell. Do you understand? You've nothing to fear." The vampire was besieged with uncertainty for as the words slipped from his throat, he realized he'd not yet fed this evening. Lifting her tenderly, she thrashed violently in his arms.

(**_No…No_**!) As she flailed wildly against him in agony, Barnabas placed her restless body upon his cape, confused by her sudden calm the moment he released her. Slipping outside to collect kindling and branches; he started a fire in the pit and then turned his full attention to the bulging bundle. Inside, he discovered bandages, salve, laudanum for pain, even a sharp needle and strong thread. Tierra Benjamin was truly afraid for her friend. As he began to remove the items, a movement caught his eye and he turned toward Kathleena. She was struggling to sit up. He was beside her in an instant.

Kneeling, he pressed her down. "Miss Tell, I am not certain if you can understand me. I am a … a friend of Tierra Benjamin and Page Vogel's. You are severely injured. You must lie still!"

Eyes closed, she thrashed her head from side to side, the movement sending her into a world of excruciating anguish. Despite his inhuman strength and her many hurts, she gritted her teeth, trying to push strongly against him. (**_No, I must… you don't…_** **_please...hurt so badly_**.) Kathleena was fading fast. As she mouthed silent sobs, tears of tremendous pain slid down her face. Her hand flew to her throat. She was slipping into unconsciousness. (**_Please...back_**)

With a confused frown, he carefully turned her onto her stomach and unfastened the buttons of her gown pushing the material aside. Having seen many unimaginable horrors during his extensive existence, some he himself had committed, Barnabas was totally unprepared for the sight that met his eyes. Between her shoulder blades, her tender skin was severely scorched. The letters D.P.F. were deeply seared into her back surrounded by a large circle as if... Growling low in his throat, his eyes darkened in absolute rage. The unbelievable cruelty she'd endured was mind numbing. Obviously the beating had not been enough to satisfy the man's pleasure from her suffering, he had also used a fiery branding iron to permanently mar her delicate skin.

Barnabas stood with a groan. His pity would not help her. He knew he must work quickly, for he wasn't at all certain how long she would be oblivious to her pain. Clutching a fistful of snow, he carefully packed it over her tender flesh and covered all with a towel he'd retrieved from the bundle. Next, he filled a thoughtfully included cooking pot with more, melting it over the flames. Aware of the unrelenting agony she would face upon awakening; he poured a draught of laudanum into a cup and waited...

Soon Kathleena was propped on her hands and knees, suffering pain so severe, she became completely irrational. Everyone was her enemy! Immediately he was at her side.

"Miss Tell, you must drink this, it will help you," he urged holding the cup against her dry lips.

She slapped the mixture away, causing it to spill into the dirt_._(**_No_**_! __**I will not drink your poison!**__) _

Shaking his head, Barnabas knelt down before her, face to face. Her eyes were tightly sealed, her head turned away. Even in her delirium, Kathleena could recall his physical threat. True, this was not Duncan but surely one of his henchmen, here, acting on orders. Having had endured so much pain this night, she vowed, (**_No more, Duncan! _****_No more!_**)

Through her haze of pain, she heard his voice call to her. "Kathleena Tell!"

(**_That voice... where have I heard it before_**_?) _It was a strong English accented voice. English...England! Had she heard it during her years at school? (**_No… No, that wasn't right_**…) She was rambling crazily to herself.

"Kathleena Tell," the man repeated sternly. "You will open your eyes. You will turn and you will look at me." His brow furrowed in confusion. "Look at me! Now!" The vampire froze, utterly bewildered. This young woman refused to respond to his command. Severely injured, in excruciating pain and yet she had the will to resist him? Impossible! Instead, he struggled to circumvent her mind, soon realizing he was incapable of connecting with her on any level. Barnabas trembled with the discovery. Never had someone been so completely unresponsive to his supernatural powers.

Kathleena bucked in severe pain and suddenly collapsed onto her stomach, gritting her teeth. She screamed inside herself. (**_Why? Why must I suffer so_**?) Simply because he must wait to marry that woman he spoke of? Claudette? _(__**It isn't my fault, Duncan! I did not choose this**_!) That damn contract. Why could they not be free of each other if they both wished for it to be so? She balled her fists._** (Damn you, Marie! And you, Angelique!) **_

Immediately Barnabas lifted his head, staring at her with an incredible look of ferocity. Rising, he left the cave. He had to calm himself. No, it wasn't possible! Kathleena Tell was a Frenchwoman. The name Angelique is of French origin. Surely she must know someone else by that name. She could not possibly be acquainted with that bitch. He snarled in frustration. Without the ability to control her, how would he discover the truth? Galled, he viciously clutched another handful of snow. _Calm yourself. _Returning to her side, Barnabas found Kathleena attempting to quell the constant waves of pain by sheer willpower and failing miserably. Feeling her flinch as he quickly raised the towel from her burned flesh he surveyed the damage. The blisters had bubbled. They had to be lanced or the flesh would begin to infect.

_**(Don't hurt me, please!)**_

"Miss Tell, I do not wish to hurt you, only help. Do you understand?"

Kathleena shook her head, instantly wishing she hadn't for the act set off another wave of agony and she trembled, firmly caught in the throes of despair. Without power over her, Barnabas could do nothing but watch as she suffered needlessly. Inhaling sharply, she felt him begin to slowly and gently soothe her burns with the ice. Despite her mistrust, the cold contact against her ravaged back felt delightful. Unconsciously, Kathleena arched upward into his hand. Unable to help himself, Barnabas smiled at her slight display of comfort. His hand stilled, his grin instantly replaced with a dark frown. Draping the towel over her back, he pulled away. He was being unfaithful to the memory of his beloved. Retrieving the needle Tierra provided, he held it over the flames to sterilize. "Miss Tell, I must lance the blisters. Do you understand me? This shouldn't hurt but it must be done. Your flesh cannot be allowed to fester." Although frightened, she understood, lowering her head and resting her cheek on her arms.

He sighed, thankful her delirium had passed. "After this, I shall soothe your flesh with some salve and give you some laudanum to ease the pain and help you sleep." Gently, Barnabas began to pierce her flesh. Althought Kathleena could feel the warmth flowing along her skin, down her sides and soaking into her bodice, she realized he'd spoken the truth, there was no pain.

"Who?" she wrote in the dirt with her finger, never grasping the fact that she was incapable of reading this man.

"I do apologize. My name is Barnabas Collins."

She'd heard that name before, but where? Suddenly she remembered. The horses, the breeder. Of course! Again, she wrote in the dirt. "Page?" He nodded as he ran an icy finger along her back, attempting to drain a particularly stubborn pocket of fluid.

"Yes. We'd just concluded our business meeting when Miss Benjamin realized you were missing. She was certain something had happened to you when your mare returned rider less. I offered to help with the search." Under his touch, Barnabas could feel some of her tension ease. He knew of Tierra and Page! He wasn't one of Duncan's men! Not _yet_ anyway. Unable to control herself, Kathleena sobbed. Her relief was so immense. Barnabas could do nothing but watch as her shoulders trembled with emotion.

"Miss Tell, I have hurt you?"

Running her finger in the dirt, she wrote the word 'No,' certain not to shake her head in answer, lest she trigger another wave of pain. Brushing the tears from her face, she winced. Was her entire body bruised and beaten? She could only thank God she was unconscious for most of it, particularly the scorching of her flesh, although at the moment, Kathleena was now greatly suffering the consequences of her earlier ignorance.

Suddenly, Barnabas knelt before her holding a cup. "Please, you must drink this; it will help ease the pain." Noting her uneasiness, he added, "I promise, it will not harm you." His voice was warm and deep, strangely comforting... magnificently delicious. Kathleena knew it from somewhere, but could not place it. Why could she not remember? Despite her reservations, she clutched the cup with wobbly hands, quickly downing the entire potion. If she were to perish, perhaps poison was the most preferable way for her life to end. Then she laughed mutely, deep inside herself. No, poison was not Duncan's style. Not only certain he would want to be there to witness her death, she knew he would demand to rejoice in her final agony. Any final mistrust she had for this man vanished.

"Good. You will be asleep very soon," Barnabas smiled. "Now I shall soothe your burns with this salve Miss Benjamin provided..." he hesitated, "…with your permission."

Already experiencing the strong tug of the drug, Kathleena nodded. Before sleep finally overtook her, she felt his large, icy hands gently knead the curative ointment into her ravaged skin. It felt so cool, so soothing, so incredibly wonderful. Unashamedly, she silently wept with pleasure. Although no actual sound was uttered, Barnabas, taken completely by surprise, instantly removed himself from her. Lowering his head, he listened to her breathing, even and deep. She was finally asleep without pain. Unable to resist, he studied her face. Despite her ghastly bruises and swollen jaw, she was uncommonly beautiful. No! There was no place in his condemned existence for any romantic entanglements. It was forbidden to him, Angelique had seen to that.

Shaking his head, Barnabas returned to his task. So focused was he; he didn't stop to consider the slight smile that now curved his lips.

* * *

An hour later...

Sitting beside the fire, Barnabas watched as she slept. Unconsciously, his gaze came to rest on the nape of her neck, his intense eyes narrowing perceptively. He was hungry, incredibly so. Having suffered his affliction for nearly half a century, he knew he could control himself, but for how long? Pulling out his time piece, he sighed. Three more hours until dawn. As he turned away from the sight of her lying there soft and warm, he uttered a groan of irritation. He must do something to quell his thoughts of her. Realizing that Kathleena had yet to eat, he left the cave.

"Dalmiir… Safeguard," he commanded, walking off into the forest. The horse snorted and ambled over to the rocky entrance.

Quickly, Barnabas scanned the area for auras, frowning when he found no signs of life. Uncertain of how much longer the young woman would remain asleep; the Englishman stretched his arms widely, converting himself into a massive bat. Flying high above the trees, he spotted the glow of a plump rabbit. Swooping low, he seized it with his sharp talons and drawing the squealing animal to his mouth drank it dry. Though his hunger was not nearly sated, his need was lessened and Barnabas felt certain he could hold off until daybreak... she would be safe. Stepping into the shelter, he found Kathleena struggling to rise, clutching her sides. Dropping the animal's carcass, he came to her aid. "Miss Tell, tell me, what are you trying to do?"

Inhaling sharply and deeply embarrassed, she knew she needed help. The vampire watched as her hand drifted to her stomach. Although he no longer had such need, he understood, wrapping his cloak tightly around her. Gathering her carefully into his strong arms, Barnabas collected the rabbit and carried her a few feet into the woods. "Do you need help?" Blushing profusely she shook her head, grateful that he walked a few paces away to clean the animal and to give her modicum of privacy.

* * *

Soon the pair settled beside the campfire. Kathleena looked on eagerly while Barnabas began to cook her meal. She hadn't realized how truly hungry she was and saw him smile at the loud growl of her stomach. Turning to her, Barnabas frowned at her lowered head. "Are the burns as tender as before?" Surprisingly, Kathleena found she had to think of the answer. Finally she shook her head 'no'. The salve he had used to soothe her flesh seemed to have helped with the pain a great deal.

"Good," he smiled. Deeming the rabbit meat properly cooked, he speared it on a sharp twig and handed it to her, watching as Kathleena took a tentative taste and then happily, hungrily bit into the game with small sharp teeth. Uncertain why, Barnabas found he had to turn away as she ate ravenously. "There is more."

(**_But you haven't eaten. You_** **_must be starving_**!)

"I'm fine, truly." Casting her a sidelong glance, he wondered if she would realize. Obviously not, for she rested against the wall of the cave, sighing silently in contentment. Only then did Barnabas notice as she raised her hand to her shoulder, trying to relax the muscle. "Has the pain returned? There is more laudanum." Turning to fetch it, he heard her fingers snap. Kathleena shook her head.

Immediately, a feeling of intense yearning washed over him and Barnabas furiously began to pace the cave, suddenly very restless. He felt his one basic craving begin to mount and he growled deeply. He realized he was wrong... very wrong. Kathleena would not be safe until the sun rose. But why this sudden urgency? He was always given ample warning. He looked at her then. He had to talk about something, anything. He had to think of something other than sinking his fangs deeply into her already ravaged body.

"Miss Tell?" Eyes closed, she lifted her lovely face in his direction, shapely brows raised.

"Why do you refuse to look at me?" Shocked, clear blue eyes snapped open; nearly forgetting to look away. Forgetting to look away… With a silent gasp, she now understood why this man's voice seemed so familiar. This was the same man from the inn; the same man who had rescued her from her would be rapist. Kathleena froze at the realization that she had been unable to read him in all this time. He had touched her, carried her into the cave, cared for her but there were no visions, no images forming in her mind. Kathleena began to tremble uncontrollably. Coming to sit beside her, Barnabas touched a hand to her shoulder. "Is something wrong?"

_**(No!) **_All at once, she was flooded with painful sensations…unimaginable visions… wild flashes entered her mind. Despite Duncan's menacing threat, Kathleena knew she no longer had a choice... she had to look upon this man. The temptation was too great to deny a moment longer. Cautiously, she lifted her long lashes gazing upon his pale skin and dark penetrating eyes. Barnabas could see her naked emotions clearly on her expressive face. It was not a look of fear, but unbelievable sadness. Shaking her head, Kathleena closed her eyes.

(**_Dear God!) _**Suddenly Barnabas groaned, experiencing an sensation he had not known in nearly fifty years…extreme panic. Was it possible that she knew! If so, how? "Miss Tell," He growled. "What is it? Tell me!" Forcing herself away from the vision, Kathleena brushed her tears away. She shook her head. (**_It's nothing truly. It's just that_**_**…) **_"That what?" he pressed. Again she gazed up into his gaunt face. (**_It just that...you are the first man I have dared to look upon in almost two years. I was just so… incredibly overwhelmed_**.) She could see the relief as it flowed through him... he believed her.

What relief he found, Kathleena lost. Only now did she realize she was having a conversation with this man without speaking to him. This was impossible! She was dreaming... she had to be. No one could communicate with her, she was a mute thanks to Duncan's viciousness. And yet...she had to know. Looking up at him, Kathleena stared deeply into his eyes, (**_Mr. Collins_**, **_do you know what I'm thinking of at this very moment_**?)

Nodding, Barnabas answered, "Yes, I do."

Leaping to her feet. Kathleena screamed inside of herself. (**_No! This is a trick! It isn't possible! Mon Dieu! How are you doing this?)_** She glared at him then, her eyes narrowed in anger. (**_I was wrong. What a fool I have been to trust anyone. You _****_are_****_ one of his men!) _**Was this their plan all along? Kathleena trembled, glancing around in fear. (**_Oh dear God! Is Duncan here? Please, no. Don't let it be so_**!) Clamping her hands over her eyes, she shivered. She could not lose her sight. She had already lost so much.

Barnabas groaned. He didn't have time for this! Grabbing her arms, he pulled her to him. "Kathleena, Stop!" he demanded, not realizing he addressed her, held her so familiarly. "You must stop this! I assure you, I know of no one named Duncan."

Knowing he could not slap her or shake her from her delusions without causing her more hurt, Barnabas did the only other thing he could think of, what he had longed to do since meeting her that night at the inn. He kissed her gently on the mouth.

It had the desired effect. The shock of his icy lips on hers immediately quelled her rampaging thoughts. Pulling away, Kathleena raised her fingertips to where his mouth had been.

"I could think of no other way." Barnabas wanted to add that he was sorry but he couldn't. Shocked, he discovered he wasn't sorry. Not at all. He had been without a woman for so long, so long…

No! What was he thinking? This was insane! He was being unfaithful. Despite her death long ago, Josette was his only love! She would forever remain so. If that were true, why then was he standing here wishing he was kissing Kathleena Tell? To take pleasure in the feel of her warm lips, to hold her tightly against him, to…

She watched as Barnabas stormed angrily from the cavern.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Upon his return, he found her standing before the fire, watching the flames leaping high into the air. Fingers still resting on her lips, she wore a look of deep confusion. What was she thinking? As Barnabas came to stand before her, Kathleena's gaze slid to his dark penetrating eyes that glittered in the firelight. After clearing his throat, he whispered, "If you would allow me, I can eliminate your scars."

Immediately she turned away, a look of fierce anger crossing her beautiful features. Storming to the entrance of the cave, Kathleena stared up at the full moon that hung high in the night sky and raised her hand to her throat. **(_Do you think me that much of a fool? It isn't even remotely possible!)_**

Barnabas strode over and stood behind her. "You had also thought it impossible for someone to communicate with you, and yet I am." Touching her shoulder gently, he caused her to face him. "I would not have offered if I couldn't help you. I do not make promises easily."

**_(If you could do as you say, which I still do not believe, why would you wish to help me?_****) **

Barnabas frowned uncomfortably, staring down at the large black ring on his index finger. At his silence, Kathleena nodded; her look one of painful acceptance. _**(Yes. Of course! You pity me****.)** _

"No, but you have faced much pain in your young life." Taking hold of her chin, Barnabas lifted her gaze to his, noting the deep sadness and hurt. "Unfortunately, I cannot erase your memories; however I can remove the marks he's left behind as reminders."

Looking deeply into soft brown eyes, she recognized nothing but the truth of his words in their depths. She was being offered the chance of a lifetime. The question was could she, would she trust him enough to take it? Searching deep inside herself, Kathleena took a deep, steadying breath, finding the courage to take a leap of faith.** (_What must I do_?)**

Placing his cloak on the ground, Barnabas gestured, "Lie here and close your eyes." She glanced at him curiously before doing as he instructed, her long lashes resting against her cheeks. "Your eyes must remain closed for the entire process, do you understand?" She nodded. "You will feel an odd sensation but it is necessary."

**(_I understand_.)**

He inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly. True, he did not need to breathe but he did need to focus. "Let's begin." Lowering the bodice of her gown, Barnabas exposed her long neck and soft shoulders, trying to avoid staring at her glorious breasts encased in the thin material of her shift. Balanced over her quiet body, the vampire opened his mouth and put it against her throat.

Unable to control herself, Kathleena began to tremble wildly. The tip of his tongue felt like ice as he slowly and methodically traveled the surface of her warm flesh, tracing the edge of her jagged wound. With a low growl, he paused for beneath his lips, he could feel the throbbing pulse in her throat, hear the sound of her blood whooshing through her veins. Becoming desperate, he needed…he needed _distance_.

"Continue to keep your eyes closed," he cautioned, standing. Barnabas gazed down at the beautiful woman lying before him.

"I am nearly finished," he added through clenched teeth, answering her unspoken question and silently pleaded for the strength to resist his cravings. On a steadying sigh, he returned to her. Kathleena could feel his anxiety pounding and palpable as he hovered above. She could feel his need, his _hunger_.

His icy tongue returned to its task, slowly tracing the final remains of her wound. Lingering a moment longer than necessary, Barnabas knew he needed blood and very soon. Reluctantly removing himself he walked away, pausing to stare into the fire.

"I am done."

Rising, Kathleena came to stand before him and bared her throat. He closed his eyes with a groan. She was completely unaware of the dangerous position in which she was placing herself. Splaying her long fingers softly against the smooth flesh, she looked at him with incredible hope and something else he didn't quite understand. _**(**_**_It is truly gone?) _**

His dark eyes slid to where her fingers rested, focusing intently as they trailed along the strong pulse pounding just under her skin._ Why is this happening?_ he silently moaned. It was as if she was intentionally beckoning him to take her. Feeling the sharp points of his fangs touch his bottom lip, the vampire was mere seconds away from overpowering her...consuming her and she would taste absolutely delicious. Of that he did not doubt for a single instant.

Turning away he said through clenched teeth, "I swear to you, the proof of his attack is no more." His voice was thick with the effort it took to control his need. Helpless to contain her show of gratitude, Kathleena threw her arms about him resting her head on his shoulder. _**(Merci Monsiur Collins. Merci, beou coup!)**_

Feeling her firm breasts pressed against his back, his gaze fell to his chest, to the pulse pounding in her wrists. Fighting so strongly to quell the urge, to resist until daybreak, Barnabas realized he had failed miserably. He could no longer deny himself; he had to appease his terrible bloodlust. Taking one of her small hands in his large icy fingers, he slowly turned towards her, his dark eyes intense and burning into hers. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Shivering as his piercing eyes devoured her, Kathleena stepped closer, shaking her chestnut tresses. **_(No, you needn't... for I've known all along.) _**With that single thought, she tilted her head to one side, freely offering herself to his hunger. There was no time to question why. Not now! Feeling his final thread of control snap, Barnabas snarled viciously. Tightly gripping her waist, he lifted her off the ground, pulling her as close as possible. Holding her firmly against him, he closed his eyes and plunged his fangs deeply into her soft flesh. Kathleena arched upward as he drank from her, the sound of his long steady swallows echoing in her ears. Opening her eyes, she grew dizzy as the cave spiraled wildly before her. Suddenly, she felt herself floating and then falling as he lowered her to the comfort of his cloak.

Reveling in the delicious taste of her warm blood, so sweet flooding his throat, his eyes opened in surprise with sudden knowledge... She was a virgin! Unable to help himself, he felt a shiver of lust long forgotten flow though him and it had nothing to do with blood. At his wayward thoughts of faithlessness, Barnabas quickly ended the feed. Lifting his dark head, he gazed at her. With eyes closed, she breathed deeply. As was his penchant, he felt the pulse in her throat with his fingertips. Removing his marks from her flesh and, wrapping his cloak tightly about her, Barnabas went to search for more firewood to keep her warm throughout the night. And to think.

Kathleena was huddled near the flames, her arms wrapped about herself, sobbing when he returned. Tossing the kindling on the ground, he dropped down beside her. "I'm sorry I've hurt you."

Wiping her tears with the back of her hand, Kathleena shook her head. She was not crying from any pain. While alone, she had time to think back on the visions. Dear God! The unimaginable horror this man had to endure. Year after year after year. Unlike her problems with Duncan, at least there was an end in sight. Not a happy end to be sure, but an end nonetheless. Barnabas however…

No longer desperate to feed, Barnabas's eyes narrowed, realizing in that instant she was aware of what he was. His entire existence was in jeopardy. He pounced on her immediately. Pinioning her down he demanded, "How do you know what I am?"

Although she knew she should be afraid of this man, for some reason, Kathleena couldn't summon the emotion. He was not an evil being by choice. He was what the witch had turned him into, doing what he needed to in order to survive. Unlike Duncan who terrified her. Who freely chose to murder and torture. Thinking back to that fateful night at her father's chateau, to the moment when Duncan stood draining her blood from the pitcher. Barnabas had committed the same act, more or less. Baffling her most were the two questions for which she herself did not have the solutions. Not only had she not been sickened by Barnabas's actions, she had actually offered herself to him without hesitation. Why?

Staring up into his burning eyes as he waited for her answer, she knew he was not a patient man. Her very life was in his hands. If he so chose, he could crush her as easily as he would an ant. Would he believe her fantastic tale? Kathleena breathed deeply. Should she even tell him? Perhaps it would be better if he snuffed her life. After all, what had she to live for?

With a sigh, she began, **_(I am cursed…) _**

His arched brows shot up at the word.

**_(I have been given a very rare ability. I am able to know someone through touch. I know everything about you. Your past... Your secrets… Everything. I know of your sister, Sarah. Your beloved Josette and..._****)** She swallowed and took a steadying breath, **(…****_And I know of the witch who placed the spell on you… and why. Your memories, your experiences are now my own._**_**)**_

She watched a myriad of expressions cross his face as Barnabas digested her words. "You know that I am inhuman. I am dead. That I am a -"

Knowing how much he suffered at the utterance of that one word, Kathleena quickly nodded. **_(I know_****._)_**

His eyes bore into hers. "If you know everything, then you must know that I will go to any lengths necessary to protect my secret."

**_(Yes.)_ **She nodded looking up into his eyes.

Barnabas stared back at her. He simply could not understand this lack of fear. Perhaps it was death she truly wished for. If so, why? "Who has done this to you? Given you this - ability?"

Kathleena looked away. _**(Angelique Bouchard.) **_

A dark emotion of pure loathing flashed across his chiseled features at her mention of that hated name. "How do you know of her? Why has she done this to you?"

Surprised by her lack of usual reticence, she quickly explained all she knew of Duncan and his mother, Angelique. Startled by that bit of unexpected information, Barnabas lifted himself from her, pulling her up with him. In doing so, his icy lips brushed against hers and Kathleena inhaled sharply, suffused with an odd feeling she had never known, a heat pulsing, throbbing low in her belly. No... even lower...

Taking her beautiful face in his cold hands, Barnabas slowly, gently caressed her, delighting in the feel of her warmth. He could no longer deny his lust. It had been so long... so damn long! Astounded, he felt her melt into him. Closing her eyes, Kathleena willingly submitted to his advances. If she was to live only to die a violent death at Duncan's hands, she was determined to know passion at least once in her life before that madman claimed her, before he demanded her. She would gladly take what this stranger had to offer, despite what he was. Kathleena would take the memory to her grave.

Silently, she whimpered, _**(Please...)**_

With a fierce growl, Barnabas managed to gently fling her away, instantly slinking further into the deep blackness of the shelter. Kathleena stood trembling and confused until she heard the loud crescendo of chirping birds behind her. She turned realizing why he had left her so abruptly. Morning had broken. Sliding to her knees, she shook her head. Had dawn not come at that precise moment, what would have ensued between them?

As Kathleena watched a bright beam of sunlight slowly trickle through the entrance, she could not decide whether she should praise the beginning of the new day or damn it.

* * *

A short while later she inhaled sharply. The pain had returned, fierce and pounding, taking her by surprise. While with Barnabas she had nearly forgotten. Did he have such abilities? Chewing her bottom lip in indecision, Kathleena dug her nails into her palms, knowing she couldn't bear the agony any longer. She needed the laudanum.

Rummaging in and around the bundle, she growled as she found nothing. Her hands searched the pockets of his cloak she was wearing. Empty. She swallowed. Perhaps, perhaps he had it on him. Gritting her teeth against the searing pain radiating from between her shoulders, Kathleena found the small pile of twigs he had dropped for the fire. Lighting the end of a thicker branch, she carefully picked her way deeper into the cavern, the torch throwing flickering shadows on the walls. She found Barnabas lying on his back; safe from any sunlight that might enter. She shuddered, pulling his cloak tightly about her slim form. Although she was not afraid, she thought it very strange to see him there, still and pale in death.

Now crippled with intense agony, Kathleena fell to her knees, her hands shaking violently as she quickly searched his pockets for the medicine.

**_(No! Please, not now!)_** Feeling as though she were in a race against the devil himself, the visions relentless and callous began to crash down upon her.

_**(Dear Lord, where is it?)**_

Relief flooded her as she found the bottle. Uncorking it, she took a long steady swallow. Before the laudanum took hold, Kathleena was forced to endure his pain, his memories as the incredible images of his final day as a living man dwarfed her own agony.

As if she was watching a grotesque play, she stood in the elegant great room of the Collins' mansion, viewing Barnabas and Angelique as they viciously argued. Now that she was bonded with Barnabas, she experienced the man's ardent emotions.

Why could Angelique not understand? She refused to listen. He had tried to be a gentleman but growing frustrated, his words were now laced with anger. In love with another, Barnabas stood before her, furiously spurning Angelique with whom he had a brief sexual tryst. Noting the fire, the hatred raging within icy depths. Kathleena lifted a hand in a futile attempt to try to stop him. Impossible, of course.

Unbeknownst to Barnabas, the woman he chose to dabble with, to reject was a powerful sorceress straight from the dark pits of hell itself. In order to continue to remain among the living, Satan demanded she find a human to love her, to willingly wed her. Furious with her lover's rejection, and particularly incensed that he found her mistress, Josette much more desirable than she, Angelique sent a powerful beast, a gigantic vampire bat to punish, to be Barnabas's harbinger of death. If she could not have him, she'd be damned if her mistress would.

Tears slid from beneath closed lashes as Kathleena fell to her knees.

**(****_Oh God, No! Noooo!) _**

Dropping her face into her hands, she flinched at the deafening sound of crashing panes of glass as the creature broke through the tall windows overlooking Naomi Collins's gardens. She felt Barnabas's incredible terror as the determined monster pinned him against a massive column in the great room.

Kathleena understood there was no possible chance of escape. The creature was tenaciously single-minded, sent for a specific purpose, unable to leave until its mission was concluded to its mistress's complete satisfaction. She gulped, tears choking her as he screamed maniacally, insane with boiling agony. Attaching itself to the Barnabas's throat, the bat emptied him of life and filled him with the curse of the undead. No longer would he know the light of day, only the blackness of night. Know only of the terrible lust for blood deep within him. Night after night, year after year, century after century…

The laudanum finally taking effect, Kathleena was gratefully yanked from the vision. Sobbing as she stared into his gaunt face, she crumpled over the vampire's stiff cold body, welcoming her release from his unbelievable anguish.

* * *

Barnabas awoke to something pressing against his chest. Lifting his arms, he encountered soft and warm flesh. No, not warm. Hot! Burning hot…like fire. Trembling with remembered sensations, he slowly opened his eyes and found Kathleena draped over him. Why? Why had she come to him… here to the deepest chill of the cave? How long had she lain on him absorbing the iciness of his body? Feeling her face, he groaned. She had the fever! Gently lifting her, he heard something crash against a rock and shatter. Looking down into the darkness, he spotted the laudanum bottle. Barnabas cursed himself for not leaving it with her. She must have been in excruciating agony to come and seek it out.

"Miss Tell… Miss Tell," he said firmly, carefully striking her less battered cheek and shaking her head. "Kathleena, awaken!" She was deeply unconscious. How much of the drug had she taken? How long ago? Again trying to channel her thoughts, to control her mind. He shook his head, it was hopeless. Growling loudly, Barnabas rose. Wrapping his cloak firmly about her small form, he carried her past the unlit fire pit and towards the blackness of the night. Hesitating at the mouth of the cave, he frowned. Never had he felt so confused! His gaze fell to Kathleena. Had she the ability to do this to him? Gently placing her upon the floor, he relit the fire. She would need the warmth on her return. "Dalmiir… Follow," he commanded, as he carried the ailing woman to an icy stream in the distance. _What is wrong with me?_ "Dalmiir… he shouted, "Stay!" Unsure, the stallion slowly ambled back to the outcropping.

Kneeling on the ground, Barnabas cradled the woman firmly in his arms. He had to lower her temperature. Suddenly thoughts of a little girl, long ago, also burning with the fever invaded his mind. "Sarah… Sarah…" No, he vowed. He had caused his sister's illness, her death, Kathleena will not become a casualty of his monstrous curse. Although deeply unconscious, she screamed inside herself as he carefully lowered her, fully clothed into the freezing water. Swallowing passed the lump in his throat, he whispered, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. You will feel better soon! I swear it!" He knew he said it for his benefit. He had to hear the words. He had to believe them. Pulling her from the water, Barnabas knew he had to rush her to the cave and quickly set her before the blazing fire.

Suddenly he clutched her protectively against his lean chest. This was all he needed, his eyes narrowing viciously as a deep growl sounded from the bushes. Immediately, Barnabas felt a massive blow to his back as sharp claws slashed through his suit coat. Despite his superior strength, he was thrown off balance and Kathleena fell to the cold hard ground, landing several feet away. Between them stood the lone wolf from last night. Lips curled, fangs glistening sharply, eyes narrowed ferociously, she snarled at Barnabas. _It was him!_ The animal then turned her long muzzle in the direction of the woman…_and her_! Reaching for his cane, Barnabas was shocked. it wasn't there! He'd left it at the shelter. "Dalmiir…Protect!" he shouted at the top of his voice, praying that his steed responded in time.

The creature began to quickly advance on Kathleena. Bowing low to transform, Barnabas paused as the stallion galloped head long through the trees. With one powerful toss of his skull, he launched the beast against a craggy wall, impaling the animal onto the jutting rocks. Painful whining and Dalmiir's breathy blows were the only sounds in the night. Barnabas rushed to Kathleena's side and immediately scooped her into his strong arms. Sprinting back to the cave, he laid her on the ground before the fire and quickly began to remove her soaked clothing. "No!" he cried out in agony and horror and moved away. His hunger for her was returning. Barnabas licked his icy lips remembering her incredible taste. "No! Not again!"

Insane with need, he rushed from the cavern in the direction of the stream, to the body of the wolf. He growled through his teeth, the blood had already congealed in the carcass. "Dalmiir…"he screamed in desperation, spit flying from his lips, "Come to me! NOW!" As the stallion galloped obediently toward him, Barnabas lunged at him and gripped tightly around the horse's long neck. The beast screamed loudly as his master's sharp fangs plunged deeply into his thick jugular. After several long minutes, Barnabas withdrew and patted his withers. "Thank you, my friend." The horse lovingly cuffed the vampire's shoulder with his head in response. "Come."

Barnabas found Kathleena staring at the ceiling, watching as the flames cast beautiful shadows on the dark surface above her head. "Miss Tell?" He knelt down beside her. She didn't recognize his presence. "Kathleena?" Slowly turning her face to his, he realized she was delirious. Quickly, he stripped away her wet clothing. Only when she was completely exposed to him, did he begin to understand the full depth of her suffering. Her ribs were bruised beyond belief, covered with varying shades of purple and yellow. Placing his hands about her sides, Barnabas felt for any breaks, surprised to find none. Above her left breast, he spotted the recognizable sign of a superficial knife wound. Frowning, he dipped his head and removed the mark. In doing so, he became aware of her as a beautiful woman. Lifting his gaze, he found her staring at him, her eyes still dim with the fever.

**_(Please.)_** She begged, stretching her arms out to him. **_(Please…) _**

Unable to help himself, Barnabas groaned with want.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Growling, he swallowed hard past the lump in his throat. She was so lovely. Covering her stunning nudity with his cloak, Barnabas clutched her hands and held them down. "No Kathleena, please. You must listen," he begged, "let something inside of you hear me…understand my words." Suddenly he frowned at the familiar sound. A distant, mirthless cackle filled the cave, soft at first and then louder, stronger, rebounding from wall to wall. Standing, he spun about to find her lurking in a darkened corner. "Angelique!" Stepping into the fire light, the beautiful blonde glared down at the young woman on the floor. "Stay away from her," he warned darkly.

With delicate brows raised, the witch stared at him maliciously. "She is not for you, Barnabas. You would do well to leave her alone."

Chuckling viciously, he snarled. "And who, pray tell is she for? Duncan Fasette?"

A look of genuine pleasure spread across Angelique's expressive face. "Why, do I detect a touch of acrimony?"

Stepping closer, the vampire grasped her upper arm angrily. How he loathed the sight of her! "Bitter! Why ever would I be bitter? I have no feelings toward you other than this profound hatred, and perhaps, more than a bit of surprise. Tell me, Angelique, did you find another ass? Had he wed you or had you simply whored yourself to the fellow, just as you had with me, mistakenly becoming pregnant with his child?" He grinned smugly as she fumed; icy eyes narrowed murderously. "Ahh," he chuckled, rubbing the proverbial salt into the festering wound he'd caused. "Have I hit upon the truth, bitch?"

Smiling nastily, she shook her head, forcing herself to calm. "As I recall, you have always enjoyed fanning the flames of my anger, Barnabas and yet you never consider the consequences. So, you wish to play your little games, do you? Amuse yourself? Well, let us see how much you enjoy _this_ little game of chance, hmm?"

Immediately, the gloating smirk slid from his gaunt face. "What do you mean?"

With an evil sneer, Angelique spread her hands toward the fire, the flames leaping higher, nearly licking her flesh. "I will _show_ you what I mean!"

Jerking her roughly from the pit, Barnabas groaned at the smile of satisfaction in the glowing depths of her eyes. "No!" He was too late.

"I always win…" she hissed, turning toward the French woman. "…sooner or later."

The pair watched as Kathleena rose, frozen before them, bewitched. Unable to look away, the vampire growled deep in his throat, his hot gaze devouring every incredible feature. Large firm breasts tipped with rose-colored nipples, the smooth tautness of her tiny waist. Barnabas hissed as his eyes fell to the chestnut thatch covering her woman's mound. She was a virgin and he moaned with long suppressed desire, practically feeling her tightness about him as he claimed her.

Resting her head on his shoulder, the witch begrudgingly, jealously admired the woman's youth and beauty. She whispered into his ear, "You want her! Take her!"

With a grimace, he closed his eyes… against Kathleena's allure... against Angelique's words. She was right, damn her! He wanted her desperately! That very instant! Summoning every ounce of supernatural power at his command, he slowly gained control of himself. "No!" he hissed, fangs lengthened with need, "she does not know what she's doing. You are controlling her will!"

Feeling a slim hand skim against his groin, Barnabas drew in a sharp breath and Angelique snickered at his desire, hard and pulsing. "And yet, you are not immune to her charms. Do you know, it truly shocks me how easily you forget your 'beloved' when you look upon her."

The words washed over him like ice water, dousing all wayward thoughts of lust. Barnabas turned on her violently and Angelique found her long throat instantly locked in his vice-like grip. She gasped for air as large fingers clutched her. "You dare blaspheme the memory of Josette to me?! You dare?! You! The one who caused her death!"

Attention diverted, the enchantress' cruel spell abated and Kathleena trembled wildly, released from the evil hold over her. **_(No! Angelique! But How-?!)_ **Certain she was not witnessing another vision, the young woman panicked, frantically looking about. **_(Duncan?! Ah, cher Dieu dans le ciel. Svp ne le laissez pas être ici !) *Oh, dear God in heaven. Please do not let him be here!_**

Preoccupied with her sudden spurt of fear, Barnabas hadn't realized the witch had escaped from his grip, vanished from the cave until it was too late. "Angelique," he barked, pacing the cavern, "Angelique!"

Winding her arms about herself, Kathleena shuddered. **_(She was here! She was here!)_**

Gently cloaking her nudity with his cape, he grasped her chin and lifted her face, staring deeply into her eyes. The fever was gone. "Yes," he nodded, solemnly. "She was here." Without thinking, she threw herself at him, clutching him desperately. Barnabas froze as her arms wound tightly about his slim waist, her head burrowing into the hard wall of his lean chest. He could feel her fear as she clung to him with a tenacity he hadn't known in forever. And then, slowly, his strong arms pulled her tightly against him. He _needed_ to hold her, to _comfort_ her... to comfort _himself!_

Looking up into his dark eyes, Kathleena's expression changed to one of stunned shock and terror as icy fingers began to choke her, thumbs pressed against the middle of her throat. Immediately she tried to twist away, her nails digging into his large bloodless hands. **_(No! Let me go! Please. What have I done? I don't understand!) _**Dear God, her dealings with Duncan had taught her nothing! What a fool she was! No one could be trusted! No one!

Gazing deeply into her frightened blue eyes, he commanded firmly, "Swallow! You must force yourself! Conquer your fear!"

Now in a state of complete panic, Kathleena knew she was about to die. Her sight was beginning to dim and she could hear the blood pumping wildly in her ears as his hand seized her windpipe. (**_Why? I..I trusted you!) _**In vain, she attempted to draw in any amount of breath. **_(I… can't… breathe..!)_**

His voice came to her as if from a great distance."It is necessary! You will speak again but you must fight for the ability! I cannot simply offer it to you. Now, show me how much you want it! Do as I say," he growled. "Swallow, damn it! Swallow hard!"

Gulping past the pressure of his hand in a last effort to save herself, Kathleena yanked away and pulled in huge gasps of air. "Are you completely mad?" she croaked throatily, glaring fiercely at him, "Wh..?" Suddenly she froze and Barnabas grinned at the shock, at indescribable joy crossing her radiant face. Uncontrollably, she shook with the knowledge that she was free. Finally free of her silence! "This isn't possible!" she whispered, fearful lest she awaken from this wonderful dream. She'd not been able to speak since... Walking to the fire, Kathleena stood there for more minutes then she could count, simply staring into the flames, trying to come to terms with her restored ability. She turned to him, tears of appreciation welling in her eyes, causing them to shimmer in the firelight.

Barnabas groaned. It would be so easy to take her, to show her wonderful techniques of exquisite pleasure. Had he been a lesser man, he would have raped her like the animal at the inn strove to do. But he was unlike mortal men, capable of control. Without warning, the wind howled viciously, garnering his attention. How he'd wanted to return her to Page and Tierra for he could no longer trust himself. Walking to the mouth of the shelter, he looked up at the ominous clouds. A storm would burst upon them before they were halfway back. Realizing he must face another night alone with her, Barnabas pulled her clean gown and underthings from the bundle. "Dress," he ordered, more gruffly then he intended, "I'll fetch you something to eat."

Kathleena frowned as she stared at the garment, noting that it buttoned in the back. Unable to muster the strength, she slipped into it as best she could and immediately fell upon his cloak. Her eyes slowly flittered closed and she drifted off into a deep sleep, a restful slumber, an exuberant smile touching her lips.

* * *

An hour later...

Her mouth watered and her stomach grumbled audibly at the delicious smells. A pot of hot coffee perked over the flames and a deer shank sizzled loudly on a spit. Spotting Barnabas sitting on a boulder watching her, Kathleena nodded her thanks. He swaggered over and sat beside her. "Are you hungry?"

She nodded again. "Yes." Tears immediately sprang to her eyes.

Gallantly he handed her his handkerchief. "Tell me." His voice sounded so warm, so caring.

She looked into his gaunt face. "I…I believed it was merely a dream, a beautiful fantasy, but you have truly done the impossible... You have given me a wondrous gift by restoring my voice," she sniffed. "Thank you…Barnabas."

Hearing his name on her lips, he smiled deeply, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "My pleasure."

Kathleena gasped. She suddenly ached for something, yearned for something she knew was absolutely wonderful but was unsure of what that something was. Seeing it in the depths of her soul, Barnabas recognized it for what it was… an innocent virgin's desire. Quickly he turned away as she placed a small warm hand on his sleeve and leaned into him; uncertain of what she was doing, only knowing that she must be near him, she had to touch him. "Barnabas?"

The vampire closed his eyes, feeling her sweet breath waft against his ear. He gritted his teeth, he had to resist. _I can't..._ _I won't_. Sensing his rejection, she reluctantly pulled herself away. A clipped voice addressed her. "A snowstorm has begun. I shall return you to the manor tomorrow evening."

Nodding, she looked up into his gaunt face. "Merci, Barnabas, for... for all you have done."

Try as he might to combat his lust, he could deny himself no longer. With a fierce growl he rose, pulling her up with him. Cupping a hand under her chin, Barnabas lifted Kathleena's face, the flickering flames reflected in her eyes, turning them luminous. A deep rumble erupted from low in his throat. He hadn't thought of taking a woman for a very long time. Celibate since losing Josette so tragically nearly a century ago, he never felt the need...Until now.

She closed her eyes as he gently lowered his icy lips to her warm mouth. Then his passion soared and he delved more forcefully. Feeling a wild tremble course through her, Barnabas forced himself to calm; she'd never known desire. Pulling away, he growled; need turning his voice dark and deep. Looking up into his piercing gaze, Kathleena saw within him a look of incredible hunger. Without hesitation, she bared her throat, only to find herself bound tightly against his chest, closing his eyes at her selfless offer. "No. That isn't what I want." Brushing the back of his large fingers gently against her soft cheek, he whispered, "I want you, I need you. I need to hold you... to love you."

Focusing on the handsome cravat tied about his throat, she stammered trying to explain, "I'm…I've, I've never…"

He hushed her with a cold finger against her lips. "You don't have to say a word. I know." Shivering, Barnabas remembered the exquisite flavor of her purity. Thanks to his earlier deer hunt, his hunger for blood was already fulfilled for this evening. Now there was another hunger he sought to satisfy. A primal basic hunger he had denied himself for so long. Taking a small hand, he gently kissed her palm with his icy lips while looking deeply into her eyes. "I can be your first lover. I can show you incredible pleasure." Certain he spoke the truth; Kathleena nearly swooned at the enormity his intimate words. Absolutely tickled at the wicked thoughts running rampant in her mind, she turned about, lifting her hair as she presented her back. Her gown unbuttoned, Barnabas snarled at the painful image imbedded there, fingering the flesh tenderly, carefully; vowing to make her forget her pain, her torment. She will forget _him_… at least for tonight. She shivered as long fingers slid the gown slowly down her shoulders, along her body to the ground, leaving her in nothing more but her shift, shoes and stockings. He placed icy kisses along every inch of exposed flesh. "My God!" he moaned reverently. "You are so warm...so soft..."

Kathleena trembled, not from the coldness of his touch but from the delicious sensations he was arousing in her. Undoing the ties and lowering the thin fabric of her shift, Barnabas gently turned her about to face him and gasped as his gaze fell to the yellow bruises marring her ribs. Dark eyes narrowed in fury, suddenly overcome with uncontrollable rage toward the animal who'd beaten her. "No!" Unable to help herself, she cried out in terror. Having witnessed that look many times before, Kathleena impulsively raised her arms to ward him off.

He crooned, trying to quiet her fears, pulling her trembling form into his firm embrace. "I will not hurt you. I do not hurt for pleasure. Please do not fear me." He looked deeply into her eyes. "I beg of you." Seeing only truth in his face, feeling the truth in his touch, she whimpered and Barnabas closed his eyes as she reached up to trace the sharp line of his strong jaw. Stepping away, he frantically threw off his elegant suit coat and tore off his cravat, his white linen shirt quickly followed. Without a woman for so long, he was hard, painfully so. Thinking it best to leave his trousers on for the moment, he stood still in the soft light of the fire. Kathleena watched, mesmerized as the dark shadows of the flames danced upon his pale skin, turning his solid frame into a golden statue.

As he held out his hands to her, she came into his embrace without hesitation. "Show me," she pleaded with compelling eyes as he stroked her cheek. "Please, prove to me that there is more to life than the endless pain and misery I have known."

He smiled, his brown eyes engulfing her in their depths. Murmuring against her lips, "I will, Kathleena. I swear to you, I will." They slid to the ground as one. Slowly, hesitantly, he raised a large hand encircling her left breast, breasts that seemed much too great for her thin frame and she trembled at his touch. The chill of his fingertips caused her nipple to tighten into a hard nub. Barnabas's gaze captured hers so completely; she shuddered and turned away, suddenly feeling awkward and unworthy of his amorous attention. With a large finger under her chin, he pulled her face back to his. "No, don't turn away. Look at me… trust me."

Smiling timidly, she replied, "I…I trust you, Barnabas."

Capturing her lips, he reveled in the warmth he found there. At the sound of her innocent moan of rapture, the vampire growled, trailing his tongue tip along her mouth until she opened in sweet submission, feeling a shudder ripple through her as he explored deeply within. "Kathleena," he moaned. "Kathleena." Leaving her lips, he slowly placed gentle kisses along her jaw, pausing at an intricate ear, nibbling the lobe. Crying out, she arched herself up against him as his cool breath and soft nips caused a thrill she'd never known. With a hiss, he swooped down to seize a tight nipple between his teeth and lick it with his icy tongue

"Barnabas!" she growled, threading her long fingers in his dark locks. **_(Mon Dieu, what is happening to me?! Je deviendrai fou sûrement!) *I will surely go insane! _**

_God, she is so responsive! _His mouth slid from one erect nipple to the other. Panting with such overwhelming desire, Kathleena's nails dug deeply into the pale flesh of his arm and he groaned with such incredible lust at her painful touch. Yearning to fill her so completely in that instant, Barnabas was certain only the possession of his inhuman control prevented him from taking her by force.

She jumped as cold lips and tongue slid along warm flesh, nibbling and licking her taut stomach. To her utter shock, he moved lower still. "No!" Kathleena begged, completely mortified. With an unholy grin, the vampire held her tiny waist in his hands. Nudging her leg over his shoulder with his arm, he looked up her body. "I swear, you will enjoy this," he chuckled huskily and lowered his face, burying himself between her firm thighs.

Crying out, she twisted and bucked, trying to escape his mouth as his lips and tongue sensually assaulted her most private and sensitive spot. Unwilling to be thwarted in his pleasurable pursuits, rough palms slid under her buttocks to hold her in place as he pulled her closer, partaking of her sweet body. Long minutes passed until finally Kathleena's reticence slowly ebbed away. Barnabas growled aware of the exact instant her passion took control. She tasted incredibly delicious; her sweet nectar began to flow. Feeling her tremor, he lifted his gaze to her beautifully expressive face, his coarse thumb tip taking the place his mouth had been only seconds ago.

Eyes tightly closed, small teeth biting her bottom lip to keep from crying out as little mews of incredible bliss slipped past. Long fingers grasped and ungrasped the coarse fabric of his cape.

_So close! So close..._

With a soft chuckle and a nod, he returned to lavish attention to the little pearl nestled at the juncture of her firm thighs as one large digit slid inside of her tight entrance. Instantly, she screamed, her head tossing to and fro as her tight muscles clamped about his finger. Barnabas growled, imagining his hard manhood being gripped as tightly.

Uncontrollably, she began to thrust against him, her wild release nearly upon her, her breathing thick and rapid. His mind reeled when he felt the absolute proof of her virginity. It was he who would truly give Kathleena her first taste of passion! The thought was so heady. Back arched, body drawn as taut as a bowstring, she was poised at the edge of climax. Needing just a little push, he bit down on her ever so gently.

"Barnabas! Barnabas!" She shouted his name over and over as she shattered in pieces, all pleasure centered on the spot where his mouth and tongue worked so persistently.

Closing his eyes, he drank of her sweetness, relishing in her taste. As her harsh breathing slowly calmed, he slid himself tightly along her length and she could feel a hard part of him through his trousers, pressing against her thigh.

Staring into pale blue eyes glazed from pleasure only moments before, the vampire frowned. Why did he want her as strongly as he did? Why did he feel he must give her pleasure or he could not continue to exist? No, impossible! He was waxing poetic like a total fool. How could such a thought even enter his mind? Kathleena Tell knew his secret! She'd the knowledge to destroy him. And yet... he'd given her pleasure... Why? What was this connection between them? Was there indeed a connection or was it simply lust he felt?

Glancing down, Barnabas groaned. While considering the unexpected twists and turns of his life, he hadn't expected her to drift off. Long lashes rested against flushed cheeks and her breath evened in peaceful slumber.

With a sigh he realized that perhaps it was for the best that she'd fallen asleep. Brushing the damp curls away from her face, he rose and drew his cloak about her as the strong arms of oblivion began to pull at him tenaciously. Retrieving his suit coat, he checked his timepiece and cursed. It was after five. Dawn would come in less than half an hour. He must seek his resting place. Certain the fire would remain lit to warm her; Barnabas trudged deeper into the darkness, finding sanctuary from the sun's deadly rays. Before sleep claimed him, he nodded. When evening fell, he vowed he would return Kathleena to Vogel's manor. Although he wished otherwise, he was unable to have her. Lust… want… Of course he was capable of feeling those ardent emotions, just like any other man. But they were only to be had by other men, men who were among the living. Happiness was no longer an option. Sliding into unconsciousness, Barnabas licked his icy lips, tasting the remnants of her release on his mouth. A deep smile crossed his chiseled features as finally the state of nothingness engulfed him.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Barnabas growled as he paced the cave as edgy as a caged tiger. Kathleena hadn't said much of anything since he'd risen this evening. She'd simply remained quiet beside the fire deep in thought, a myriad of expressions flitting across her lovely features. Her silence discomforted him but it had also given him time needed to think. Why had he told her she would return to Vogel's manor? Why had he told himself? If only he could erase her memory of him, of what he was, he would no longer need to worry. Suddenly he paused, _Could he possibly allow her to live knowing what she did?_ As soon as the thought was conceived, Barnabas quickly dismissed it. No. Kathleena Tell was much too much of a threat to his survival. As abhorrent as his cursed existence was he, as did a mortal man, felt a deep-seated need for self-preservation.

With her head held high and firm purpose in bright eyes, Kathleena rose and came to him. Barnabas frowned, an impending sense of trepidation surged through him. "You are trying to decide what to do with me, aren't you? You fear that if I leave here alive, I will reveal your secret." Closing her eyes, she silently prayed her next words would sound cold and above all else, convincing. "You are right, Barnabas. You will not be safe! If you allow me to live, I promise you that I will tell! I will tell the first person I see!"

Enraged, his dark eyes flew to her beautiful face; large icy hands immediately encircling her slim throat. "How dare you?! After everything I have done," he roared, trembling with a fury and hatred that was usually earmarked only for Angelique. Barnabas was absolutely astounded that he was able to find the control within him to stop himself from hurting her when every fiber in his being wanted to crush the light from her eyes, to destroy her for threatening his existence. Suddenly he froze, riveted, as a single tear slipped from beneath long lashes. His glare slowly softened, time stood still as she waited before the vampire.

"Why?" he asked, lowering his hands.

A sob of bitter disappointment tore from her throat at his whispered query. Realizing he knew she said it so he would simply kill her without thinking, Kathleena shouted angrily at the failure of her strategy. "You need even ask? I've told you of Duncan, of Angelique—what have I to live for if I leave here? Nothing!"

She pulled away then. "It's strange you know. I'd always resented it when someone, anyone had shown even the slightest amount of pity towards my situation. And now, I cannot help but pity myself!" Kathleena turned to him, almost defiantly. "I cannot, no; I _will_ _not_ be forced to marry him!"

Barnabas recognized the look of utter hopelessness in her frightened eyes. Why did her misfortune move him so? Was there some twist of fate thrusting them together? He'd remembered the odd sensation he'd felt the instant he saw her at the inn in the village.

_No, Damn it! He simply felt sympathy for her, nothing more! _

Placing a small hand on the sleeve of his suit, Kathleena winced as she stared up into the depths of his powerful gaze. "Barnabas, I want you to kill me." She said the words calmly and clearly; not a bit of a waver in her voice. Taking one of his cold hands between hers, she clutched it frantically. "I will not fight you. I will not cry out. I only ask that you do it as quickly and as painlessly as you can. I cannot face what lies in store and I am too much of a coward to take my own life. Angelique has plans for me, I know. Nefarious plans. Else why would she refuse to release me from this arrangement she had made with my mother so long ago? You know well what she is capable of, as do I. Please," she begged, desperately now. "I will be free and you will need never fear that I will expose you." As if he were apart from himself, Barnabas watched as she raised his hand, splaying his long icy fingers around the cream column of her fragile neck.

Yes, it would be so easy to snap her delicate bones. She would be dead in an instant, her pain over. It would be an act of mercy, an act of necessity. An act to ensure his survival, he told himself. Feeling her strong pulse leap beneath his fingertips, he growled.

_Yes! What I need to survive! _

Unable to resist the overwhelming urge to taste her again, Barnabas slammed against her violently, pinning her firmly to the hard craggy wall of the cave. For a brief instant before his need finally consumed him, he could sense a sudden burst of excitement flow and crash over her as he lifted her effortlessly to the coldness of his lips, his sharp fangs plunging deeply into her soft warm flesh.

With a wild cry, Kathleena arched up into him, into his mouth. She felt his need, his hunger. His hunger for her. As she murmured his name over and over, Barnabas trembled, her blood thick and sweet gushing down his throat, filling him, sustaining him. Never before had one offered themself so freely to his cravings. Not since his beloved Josette had he felt so coveted. No! he flinched. With a start, dark eyes flew open at the sudden realization that, for the first time in nearly a century, his first conscious thought upon awakening this evening was not of his lost love, but of she, of Kathleena!

With a moan of instant betrayal, he tore himself away. What was he doing? This is wrong! Dazed, Kathleena collapsed faintly onto a large boulder, watching as he paced about heatedly. "Come," he ordered brusquely holding out his hand. Remarking the harshness in his own voice, Barnabas strained to calm his emotions. None of this was her fault, he reminded himself. She was not responsible for his anger, his… infidelity. Gently, he called to her again his voice now warm and deep. "You are hurt. Come, I will help you."

Peering down at herself, Kathleena shuddered uncontrollably at the blood streaming down her chest and drenching her bodice. Although Barnabas had hurt her, she did not fear him for she knew the reason for his peculiar actions-she felt his unbelievable sorrow. "I know how much you long for her," she whispered. "How much you love her still despite the years that separate you." Pulling her tightly against the hard wall of his chest he said nothing, merely dipped his mouth to her throat removing the injury that remained. Kathleena shivered and he immediately pulled away with a frown striding to the cave's rocky entrance. He stared up at the night's clear sky and then to Dalmiir, an unreadable expression pasted on his handsome face.

Finally, Kathleena heard him sigh deeply. "Come," he said, his deep voice tinged with remorse. "I am certain Miss Benjamin is beside herself with worry." Stunned, she opened her mouth only to quickly snap it shut again, the dark cautionary scowl Barnabas gave her halted all further thoughts of comment. Covering her quaking shoulders with his inverness cloak, he clutched her tiny waist and quickly tossed her up onto his stallion's broad back. "Dalmiir… Follow."

Leading the way, the vampire's brow creased in thought. She had willingly offered herself for the slaughter, why had he not killed her? The question swirled wildly in his mind. A question devoid of a solution. Suddenly something she had said earlier dominated all other thoughts. Indeed, what _were_ the witch's plans for her? Surely this Fasette was but one vicious pawn in Angelique's evil scheme. Glancing back at her, Barnabas grumbled. Although she strained to stay upright, Kathleena's exhausted body was listing over the horse's long neck. _Damn it!_ He didn't want to ride with her, to have to hold her, to feel her soft warm body pressed against his for, despite his dark thoughts of unfaithfulness, he still wanted her, still lusted for her. But he knew it was unavoidable lest he wished to watch her tumble from his steed.

"Dalmiir…" he sighed, "hold." Digging a heel into the animal's muscular thigh, Barnabas settled in behind her, his hands settling on her slim hips. Able to experience palpable tension, Kathleena tried to pull away. "Rest," he ordered tersely gathering her in his cold embrace. Cautiously she leaned against him; her chestnut hair, wafted by the breeze, caressed his jaw. Nestling her head into the hollow of his throat, Kathleena slowly began to relax, finding a semblance of comfort in the noises there. The heat of her smooth cheek penetrated the thin linen of his shirt. He heard her soft breath even into sleep, felt it puff against his neck, gentle and warm.

Closing his eyes and offering up a silent plea, Barnabas rapped Dalmiir's sleek sides urging him into a fervent gallop. The sooner he returned her to Vogel's manor, the better for them both. Or so he hoped.

An hour later…

Page found Tierra standing on the balcony staring up at the night's sky, shivering. Slipping his warm cloak over her shoulders, he gathered her tightly against his chest, nuzzling her blonde head with his nose. "Dearest, please come inside. You must occupy your mind with something. You will make yourself sick. Collins will return her safely." He frowned at the look of utter dejection in her watery gaze.

"Page you don't know that! In fact, you know nothing about the man!" Tierra's splintering voice told him she was nearing hysteria. "It's been four days, four! Where the devil is she?" Choking back a sob, she keened, "Dear God, she's dead. I know it! Whatever problems she'd faced in France have followed her here. Someone has murdered her!"

Page bent down and gently kissed her quivering lips. "No Tierra," he said vehemently, shaking his head. He vowed to draw her out of this deep depression. "Kathleena is well. Say that over and over again. She is well!" Suddenly the doors burst open and James ran in, more energetic then he had been in years. The couple stared at the old man, hardly daring to hope. Page lifted an arched brow. "Kathleena…?"

"Yes Master Vogel," the butler nodded with a smile. "Miss Kathleena is safe. Mr. Collins has taken her up to her room."

Uttering a squeal of delight, Tierra sprinted up the winding stairway and flung open the door. Barnabas sat in a wing chair beside the bed rubbing his jaw in thought as he stared at Kathleena tucked warmly under the counterpane. Coming to his side, she gasped. "My God, she looks so ashen."

Barnabas could see the worry etched into the young woman's pretty features, could hear the helplessness in her trembling voice. Hoping to sooth her anxiety, he smiled. "She is simply exhausted."

"You're certain?"

"Yes."

Tierra gently place a delicate hand on his broad shoulder. "Words cannot express how much I truly appreciate all you've done, Mr. Collins. Page was so confident that you would return her safe and sound."

At the clear tone of uncertainty in her harried voice, Barnabas chuckled, powerless to resist, "And you, Miss Benjamin? Did you doubt my abilities to find your friend?"

Ashamed to admit it, she turned away. "You were gone for so long and anything-" Realizing silence was the better part of valor, Tierra decided to change Kathleena into a clean peignoir. Lowering the cover from the woman's still body, she gulped in horror. "Dear God…the blood! So much blood!"

"No!" Barnabas growled forgetting that her blood drained unchecked from her throat. Quickly clutching the woman's arm, he wrenched her away from the bed. "You _will_ look at me," he said forcefully. "_Look_!"

Aghast, Tierra glowered up at the handsome Englishman. _How dare he touch her?!_ Her fuming expression instantly faded and a warm flush quickly flowed over her as she gazed dumb struck into his shadowy eyes. Eyes that seemed to penetrate, to reach down deep inside of her, to embrace her very soul.

"She is tired, that is all. Simply tired." Barnabas's soothing voice and strong will gently subverted her mind. Placing a hand under her chin, his piercing gaze intensified. "You have had a very pleasant conversation with your friend but you will remember nothing of the blood, do you understand?"

Slowly she nodded and murmured, "Yes, I understand."

"Good. You may return only when you sense that I have gone. You will remember nothing." Lowering his hand, he commanded, "Now, leave me."

Returning to the chair beside her, Barnabas found himself gazing into startled blue eyes. Kathleena had obviously seen and heard everything. "She is fine," he assured her, casting her an unreadable look.

She stared at him. **_(What did you do to her?)_**

It was Barnabas's turn to stare. He frowned, confused. Why wasn't she speaking aloud?

"Kathleena…?"

Quickly she placed a warning finger to her lips. **_(Tierra and Page. They mustn't know that I am able to speak. No one must know.) _**

"But why? I don't—"

**_(Duncan. He has spies everywhere. He will punish me.) _**Kathleena trembled at the thought.**_ (I must be cautious.) _**

Settling himself on the edge of the bed, Barnabas whispered softly, "Do you think he doesn't know? Angelique has undoubtedly told him everything." He knew his words would hurt her but he also wanted to make certain that she was aware of the possibility that Duncan's knew of the situation; that she was prepared.

Kathleena brushed away an errant tear and nodded.**_ (It exhausts me to constantly wonder what he will do, when he will come …) _**Her gaze fixated on his. **_(Barnabas, why didn't you take my life?) _**

Irresolute, Barnabas frowned. An answer had never materialized. "I don't know. I have searched for the reason hard and long, so long that my head pulsed with the thought. Truly Kathleena, I don't know." He sighed, staring down at the large gold and onyx ring on his forefinger. "It would have been better for both of us had I done so."

Several long moments of silence stretched out between them, each absorbed with their own dizzying thoughts. Finally, Kathleena whispered aloud, the unexpected sound like a gunshot in the quiet room. "Do you now believe that I will not betray your secret? That I am no longer a threat?"

He simply stared at her. "Only two people besides Angelique had known of my curse and lived," he replied. "Ben Stokes, a faithful servant and my father. Anyone else…"

Kathleena looked up at the incredible sorrow in his sable eyes. "Barnabas," she whispered, choking on a sob that matched his pain, "I understand your grief. I feel it for it is now my own." Gently, she lifted a slim hand and brushed a stray curl of hair from his brow; the simple act triggered such a forceful wave of lust in him that she gasped and he swiftly rose from the bed.

"I must leave." he said simply.

She nodded. Yes, he was leaving. Back to New England, to Collinwood. Kathleena experienced the ardent emotions crashing over him; overwhelming him. She could feel his manic hatred for the witch Angelique. She felt the incredible shame of his betrayal to the memory of his beloved Josette and, most of all, she could feel the burning desire he suffered for her, Kathleena herself. Remarkably, she was unable of feeling his distrust of her, his uncertainty that she would expose him. Barnabas finally appeared to believe in her and for that Kathleena was deeply grateful.

Slipping from the bed, she came to him then; to say goodbye. "Thank you, Barnabas for eliminating my scars, returning my voice. You have made my life more— tolerable." Suddenly her voice faltered and Kathleena looked at him, a grave expression touching her loveliness. "I will _never_ divulge what I know about you, of this I solemnly vow."

Seeing nothing but utter sincerity in her beautiful eyes, Barnabas gently lowered his icy lips to her warm mouth wanting to enjoy the flavor of her for the last time. In that instant, Kathleena happily remembered those intimate moments spent with him at the cave. She recalled every knowledgeable stroke of his large hands, every tantalizing touch of his cold mouth and lips and tongue. Mon Dieu, the things he did to her, the wonderful way he made her feel, as if she was someone incredibly dear to him.

Kathleena yearned for him desperately. For one final moment of ultimate pleasure at his cold touch. To feel his dead body seize hers with a fierce possessiveness she'd yet to experience. Suddenly she froze with an unexpected insight. Barnabas clung to the memory of Josette much too tenaciously, her perceptive heart told her, tightening painfully. Making love to her would be a colossal error on Barnabas's part. It would only hearten his feelings of disloyalty. And if Duncan were to—Dear God! With a strangled cry, Kathleena forced herself to reel away.

"Goodbye, Barnabas."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

One week later…

Above the rim of his teacup, Page watched as Kathleena forked the eggs about her plate disinterestedly. She'd changed since her safe return by the enigmatic Barnabas Collins. Yes, he nodded. She appeared self-confident, a bit more energetic perhaps and yet, there was an underlying gloom that seemed to constantly bring a ghost of a frown to her lips. She hadn't as yet disclosed the details of her whereabouts and his interest was more than slightly raised. Where was she in those mysterious days? What happened to bring about this … this adjustment in her character? It couldn't have anything to do with Collins, could it? Perhaps he should test the waters, as they turned to his beloved and sighed as she nattered on about Kathleena's short-lived disappearance and ultimate rescue. Noting Kathleena herself was growing increasingly weary of the subject, he placed a gentle hand on Tierra's arm. "Darling, perhaps it's best this chapter of her life is closed," he looked toward the Frenchwoman and smiled. "She is back and here she is going to stay. Let it be over for her as well."

With a smile, Tierra complied. Sitting back in his chair he wondered how to delicately initiate the subject of Barnabas Collins when, bless her heart, his love unknowingly solved his dilemma. "Darling, has Mr. Collins found rooms in town? I haven't seen him in days. Surely you've offered him the room we've prepared."

Watching Kathleena closely, Page looked for any tell-tale signs of further despondency, seeing nothing but that damnable ghost of a frown. "Collins has returned home."

"He left? Without a word of goodbye?"

"He had to go."

The couple's head's turned to the woman sitting across the table, both regarding her with a shockwave of astonishment. "Dear God," Tierra whispered, flabbergasted. "My dear, you've spoken!"

Realizing she had committed a serious blunder, Kathleena moaned and then, amazingly, something wonderful happened. A sense of complete liberation flooded through her, for from the instant her voice returned she wanted to speak, needed to speak, to scream with a voice long suppressed. Although her fear of Duncan was fierce, never again would she willingly remain silent. Gazing into Tierra's stunned eyes she smiled demurely, "Yes."

"How is this possible?" Page asked, amazement in his voice. Duncan's threat still rang so clearly through her mind. Despite her newfound courage, Kathleena couldn't turn to him. She'd taken a great gamble when looking upon Barnabas and hadn't regretted her decision for an instant. She vowed he would be the final man she would see before she died, before Duncan came to kill her.

"Kathleena," he persisted. "What happened? Where were you?" Trembling at his hard tone, she realized now that she could speak again, the couple would demand, and rightly so, an explanation for everything. Everything. But… but what could she possibly say? That her unwanted fiancé followed her to America to plague her, to lord his mastery over her until the day he came to wed and kill her? No, to do so would place their lives in instant peril. Kathleena closed her eyes as the raw memory of his vicious words came back to her._ "I will butcher anyone you dare tell. I will force you to watch their suffering as I gut them… they will DIE because of YOU!"_ No she vowed, with a slight shake of her head, she would not allow that to happen. And too, it would be difficult for her to reveal the details without disclosing Barnabas's role in all of this.

Taking a deep steadying breath, she whispered, "You both have the right to know, but I- I'm sorry, I can't explain anything to you."

Livid, Page rose from the table upending his chair in the process. "Kathleena, you can't possibly be serious. We deserve an explanation. You cannot return and expect for that to simply be the end of that! Surely you can tell us if you were you taken by force. Had you left on your own accord? Were you injured?"

Kathleena groaned softly. She was certain these people could be trusted and although she longed to tell them, only her knowledge of the deadly consequences kept her quiet. She simply sat straight in her chair allowing his words to lash her deeply. At her steadfast refusal to speak, Page tilled his fingers angrily through his hair. "My God, Tierra was beside herself with fear. You seem remarkably indifferent to her feelings. I, however, care a great deal." He paced about the room, pausing to stand beside his fiancé. "I can still remember the look of terror on her face as she rushed in to tell me that she couldn't find you, your horse having returned riderless to the stables. And Collins, why he –" The sudden mention of Barnabas's name brought Kathleena to instant tears. Unable to stop herself, she lowered her face into her hands and wept. Page immediately fell silent as Tierra flew to her side in the next moment.

Kneeling beside her chair, the woman patted her hand gently, reassuringly. "Page didn't intend to sound so harsh," she said, speaking to her as she would a small child. "He's simply concerned. We both are. You were gone for so long, I – I feared you were dead." Kathleena gasped at how close to the truth she truly was. "Please tell us," Tierra implored, her compassionate voice breaking with renewed sorrow. "Not for our sakes, my dear, but for yours. We only want to help you."

"You cannot help me!" she said, her eyes pleading for understanding. "He will-"

"He? He who? Do you mean Collins?" This, from Page as his curiosity increased to a higher plane. Tierra was right. He knew nothing of the man. "Had he...hurt you when he found you? Had he threatened you?"

"No, he'd done nothing untoward," Kathleena quickly assured them. "Nothing untoward at all." The thought of Barnabas warmed her, causing her eyes to sparkle with secret memories. Noting her mysterious expression, Tierra wondered at it. Later, she vowed, she would discover its meaning but for now there were more urgent matters to attend to.

"Who is the 'he' you mentioned if not Barnabas Collins?" she asked, determinedly. "Is this 'he' the reason you had to leave France?" She thought back to her aunt's letter of introduction. Madeline mentioned none of the complications Kathleena was tackling. She'd only described the situation as 'abhorrent'. "Your life was in danger in France, wasn't it? This 'he' was trying to kill you- is trying to kill you, for he has found you, hasn't he? "

Worriedly, Kathleena chewed her bottom lip. They were so close to the truth. The urge to tell them of Duncan's evil deeds was, in fact beginning to chip away at her vow of silence. Slowly she looked up, fear clearly evident in her pale eyes. "I cannot say." She whispered the words so softly Tierra had to strain to hear them.

Page came down on his haunches alongside his beloved. "Perhaps you don't have to," he sighed, aware that the woman had suffered enough and was clearly strained. Still one thing baffled him. "Through some 'miracle' shall we say, you are able to speak again. However, I can't help but remark that you still refuse to look at me. Why is that?"

The Frenchwoman shivered as she recalled Duncan's well-defined promise of retribution. "It is forbidden." He frowned as she chose not to elaborate further on the subject or explain the meaning of her disturbing words.

Suddenly, James entered the dining room. "Miss Benjamin, Mrs. Whitehall asked that I fetch you. I believe it has something to do with the grocer's invoice?" She nodded. "Tell her I will be there in an instant." Turning back to Kathleena, Tierra realized that there was nothing more to be said. She'd endured enough of their harsh interrogation. Too much in fact. With a slight shrug of her shoulders she glanced at her betrothed and, thankful that their lives were so uncomplicated in comparison, headed to the galley.

Page, his voice thick with remorse addressed her. "I truly regret that I had spoken to you so cruelly. I was merely vexed by the entire situation. Forgive me." With a wave of her slim hand, Kathleena dismissed his apology, unable to find anger with him. How would she have reacted were she in his position? Flashing a smile of understanding, the woman rose from her chair and strode to the windows overlooking the snow covered gardens. The setting of the sun cast a golden hue on her face as Page studied her. Suddenly an idea formed. Nonchalant, he came to stand beside her. "I thought it odd Collins left so quickly following your safe return, didn't you?"

Remaining remarkably silent, Kathleena seemed fixated on the winter birds as they hopped about on the sill, searching for any last bit of food before roosting for the night, their feet leaving tiny tracks in their wake. "Why odd?" Although her words sounded uninterested, her pulse was quickening. "His business with you was concluded, was it not? Perhaps Mr. Collins realized there was no reason for him to linger longer than necessary."

"Wasn't there?"

Her bottom lip trembled slightly. His curious choice of words sent a sudden spurt of fear racing through her and heart began to pound in double time. No she assured herself. Page merely assumed that something had transpired between them. He doesn't know, couldn't know. Kathleena watched as the birds flew off. Turning to him then, she focused on a spot on the wall above his left shoulder, determined to divert his interest. "What are you implying?" she asked, trying to sound insulted. "Do you believe I am some loose tart who would throw herself at a stranger?" Suddenly she froze. Dear Lord, she was just that! She ached for Barnabas Collins to take her. She longed for him still! Even at this very moment, she wanted him!

Noting the deep color of embarrassment slowly creep up her neck and face, he gushed, "Kathleena, I am not suggesting any such thing. I only wished to point out that you appear changed since your return. I merely assumed it was because of Collins."

"Changed?" She wondered, genuinely interested. "How so?"

Suddenly uncomfortable, Page shrugged. "Well, you seem more assured. Not as broken and dejected as when you first arrived."

Kathleena walked to the fireplace, staring down into the dying embers. Page, realizing what he had just uttered, gasped. With a sigh, she knew truer words were never spoken. Yes, she _was_ broken before meeting _him_. Her spirit, her body. Barnabas had quite simply healed her. He made her experience emotions she never thought she would. Everything Duncan had denied her, a vampire had given her. And she, in turn, chose to offer herself to him. Kathleena shivered at the memory of Barnabas's deep hunger for her. She did not fear him as all others did; she couldn't. She longed for him, missed his touch, however brief. Lost in her incredible fantasy, her heart suddenly lurched painfully against her breast. Duncan would claim her and she would expire at his hands. She would never know what true intimacy was. A choking sob ripped from her throat.

Certain that his hurtful words were the reason for her sorrow, Page placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. Kathleena gasped. His strong fingers unknowingly dug into the final remnants of her seared flesh. Without Barnabas's presence to divert her attention, the throbbing pain had returned.

"Kathleena, what is it?" Seeing the unmistakable look of anguish in her eyes, he knew. "My God, you're hurt!"

"No," she said firmly, shaking her head. Inside she was terrified. He couldn't discover the injury. He couldn't! There would be too many questions. Questions impossible to answer. Stepping away, she was disheartened when he relentlessly pursued her. "I must see, you may need a doctor. Having returned over a week ago, surely you would have healed in that time, unless your injury is severe."

"No, please," she whimpered in dismay, raising her hands to fend him off. "Stay away from me!" Suddenly, a brief vision of Duncan flashed across her mind, there for less than an instant of time but still Kathleena's face grew as pale as death. Immediately, she threw herself at Page. "No, Duncan! You will never hurt me. Never, ever again!" Furiously pounding her small fists fruitlessly against the hard wall of his chest, she screeched hysterically, "Never again, never again!"

Frightened, Tierra dashed into the room followed closely behind by the cook and a scullery maid. "What is it? What's happened?" The servants stared on in confusion and horror. Although alarmed, Page cautiously but securely grabbed Kathleena about the wrists to try and calm her, which only served to enrage her all the more. "Damn you! Let me go!" she growled, pulling against him in a worthless attempt to remove herself from his tight grasp. Frustrated with her capture, she keened up at the ceiling, "Angelique! What are your plans for me?" Her heart wrenching cries of desperation drew an unexpected third person into the disturbance. Page stared toward the doorway as he held Kathleena who was now trying to tear at him like a wild cat. Her strength was waning but still she fought tenaciously, as if battling for her very life.

As Barnabas smoothly removed her from Page, Kathleena's blind rage and frustration now took aim at a new mark. Finally free, she viciously slashed out at the vampire, raking her nails deeply into the flesh of his gaunt cheek. Long scratches appeared but no blood ran down his face. Dropping to his haunches, he cradled her in his strong arms, crooning softly. "It's Barnabas, Barnabas," he murmured against her brow. His voice, warm and deep, was gently soothing her. "No one will harm you now. I'm here. Shhh."

"D-Duncan," she stuttered in fear, trying to explain. "Duncan!"

Barnabas could feel an incredible tremble rocket through her. Gradually she began to quiet, comforted by his nearness and relieved he'd returned. Shaking his head, the Englishman looked up at the couple. Nodding, Tierra motioned for him to follow. Gently, carrying her up to her room, he whispered, "Duncan will not harm you this night, I promise. I will protect you, Kathleena." Burying her cheek into his shoulder, the final quakes of terror shuddered through her. She immediately fell unconscious as he placed her on the counterpane, overcome.

* * *

Tierra sat silently on a pale green davenport and Page leaned against the mantle, a snifter of brandy in his hand when Barnabas returned to the great room an hour later, a bandage on his face, purely for their benefit. "How is she?" He shook his head, remembering the scene he beheld when he arrived. Obviously the trauma of all Kathleena endured crashed down on her at last. She could have seriously hurt herself. How he wanted to annihilate both Angelique and her damned son. With a sigh he simply said, "she is asleep."

"Thank God." Tierra looked at the Englishman. "Mr. Collins, what has brought you back? Why did you leave in the first place?"

Staring down at the large ring on his finger, he frowned, his eyes so obscure they were practically invisible, hidden in the dark shadows of his face. "Miss Benjamin, I sincerely regret leaving so abruptly, but it was necessary at the time." Barnabas's frown deepened as he recalled those appalling emotions of self-loathing and betrayal. He'd departed for home when all he longed to do was remain by Kathleena's side.

He groaned remembering how restless he had felt at Collinwood. Everything was the same but not he. He was changed somehow. He no longer sensed the emotional attachment to the old house he once had. It was almost as if he was filled with discontent, as if he was needed elsewhere. Even his manservant, Gregory had noticed his uneasiness. "Master Barnabas, ye surely seem a bit off since returnin'. Hae somethin' happened?" Suddenly his eyes narrowed perceptively. "Ye've na been discovered, hae ye?" His deep Irish brogue was filled with concern

Staring intently into the flames, the vampire placed a cold finger to his icy lips, recalling the magnificent sensation of Kathleena's warm mouth on his. The taste of her skin… the sweetness of her blood… the muskiness of her passionate release. With a low growl, Barnabas stood and glanced at his servant. "No Gregory. All's well, or rather, it shall be. I must return."

"Ta Pennsylvania? Och, sir, ye've jus'-" At his master's sharp look of finality, the butler sighed. "Aye, I'll be gettin' yer things."

"Gregory, my coffin."

The man understood. "Aye."

With a nod, Barnabas slowly ascended the grand staircase and with a deep breath, opened the door to Josette's room. A monument of a fashion dedicated to the loving memory of his lost fiancé, taken from him by Angelique's jealous fueled curse. For a moment he stood at the threshold, simply staring up at her portrait that hung above the mantle. He had to do this. He had to put her to rest. Finally.

"Josette," he whispered. "Dearest Josette. Time passes by so very slowly for me without you. The witch's hatred had parted us so very long ago." Gingerly, he entered the room, gazing up into the lifeless eyes of the painting. "I have longed for you, grieved for you and you shall always be a part of me." He sighed heavily. "But now, now I realize that I must consign you to my memories. You are part of my past, forever gone and I am destined to exist in this world without you." Barnabas closed his eyes for a moment. "I now know that it is time. I –I must move on."

He turned away then, finding himself unable to look upon the blank unfeeling stare of his former betrothed. "Josette, I have found a woman that I can–" Suddenly Barnabas thrilled at his startling revelation that, for the first time in a very, very long while, he truly felt alive again! Kathleena and her enthusiastic acceptance of him had granted Barnabas the inconceivable strength to finally love another. Once again facing the portrait, he could no longer sense her omnipresence in this room or in his mind. "Josette," he said decisively, "I have found a woman to share my life with. Please, I ask that bestow on me your providence for she is entangled with Angelique and I dread losing her to the evil witch as I had, you."

At the door he turned, his hand resting on the knob. Gazing one final time at the woman he vowed he would love forever, a tear slid down his thin cheek. "Rest in serenity Josette," Closing the door gently behind him, Barnabas was unaware that the sweet aroma of jasmine now pervaded the quiet room.

* * *

"Mr. Collins…? Mr. Collins…? Barnabas…?!"

The Englishman jerked back to the here and now. "Miss Benjamin," he said with a sad smile. "I apologize, my thoughts had strayed."

Tierra's brow was furrowed. "I was asking if you knew who Duncan is."

With a sigh, Barnabas nodded. "When I had located Kath- er…Miss Tell, she had spoken of him."

"Obviously she fears him a great deal," Page said. "That little one's strength was fantastic. I am truly grateful you'd arrived when you did." Barnabas shook his head at his offer of a drink. "Would you care to share with us what you know? Had she also spoken to you of the woman? Of Angelique?"

Angrily Barnabas paced the room, a look of brutality flashed across his chiseled features at the mention of her accursed name. Turning to the couple, his look was now one of complete composure. He smiled sadly. "I regret that I cannot. I have sworn Kathleena my silence in this matter. I'm sorry for I know how concerned you both are."

Page nodded dejectedly. "Concerned, of course and curious, if the truth be known."

"Were you not curious, you would not be –human." Suddenly uncomfortable, Barnabas cleared his throat. "To answer the question you posed earlier, Miss Benjamin, Kathleena is the reason for my return. I – I couldn't stay away knowing she was in such dire straits." He glanced up the stairs. "With your permission, I would like to sit with her, if I may."

"Of course, Mr. Collins."

"Barnabas, please."

Tierra nodded with a smile. "Should Kathleena awaken and want for anything Barnabas, please feel free to ring for James."

"Thank you."

"Oh, I'd nearly forgotten." Page added as he watched the gaunt man head for the stairs. "I believe Kathleena is injured. She expressed pain and when I demanded to see her wound to determine if she needed a doctor that was when she began to act wild."

"I will see to her," Barnabas replied, taking the stairs two at a time.

Tierra wrapped her arms about Page's muscular body. "What do you think, darling?" Bolting the door he whispered, his voice thick with desire, "I think they are perfect for each other. Just as we are, sweetheart." Bestowing her beloved a captivating smile full of promise and pleasure, Tierra kissed him ardently as he gently lowered her to the floor before the dancing flames of the fire, pressing her deeply into the carpet with a groan.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"Kathleena, I—"

He immediately froze as he entered her room, staring at the bed, now empty. Where the devil could she be? She was deeply unconscious when he left her earlier. Suddenly the sound of a choking sob from the balcony drew his attention. Barnabas gasped. There, reflected in the moonlight three stories up Kathleena sat on the banister in the falling snow. "Dear Lord, no!" he groaned, as she stared intently at the ground far below. Sensing him she turned, her eyes dazed and wet with tears still unshed.

"Please," Kathleena whispered as an uncontrollable tremble surged through to her very soul. A tremble not caused from any coldness she may have felt. He closed his eyes, aware that the witch had made her fear him as she had Josette so long ago. Why? Why, Dear God?! Although he longed to go to her, to pull her back to safety, he couldn't. She would jump in terror to escape him. Not again! Barnabas forced himself to turn away. Then, to his surprise, he soon felt warm breath against his cold cheek and as Kathleena stood before him, the vampire jerked in disbelief. He could find no indication of fear in her beautiful gaze.

Shaking her head, she murmured her voice gentle but rich with desire,"You don't understand, Barnabas. You don't understand at all." Slowly, small hands slid underneath his inverness cape and along the hard wall of his lean chest. Sparkling blue eyes gazed deeply into the warm depths of his own.

Immense relief for her safety comingled with the pent up desire he felt to claim her in that instant and still he held himself apart from her. Something was very wrong! Grasping her hands firmly in his, Barnabas held her at arm's length. "Kathleena, What is it? Tell me!" Noting a mysterious flicker flash in her eyes, he knew...Clearly she'd had an unwanted visitor. He shouted at the ceiling, challengingly. "Where are you? I know you are here, Angelique! Show yourself!" Kathleena cried out and clutching her throat, she stiffened and fell against him. As he slowly lowered her to the bed, not surprised when the beautiful blonde enchantress removed herself from the young woman's unconscious form. "Leave her in peace, damn you! She's done nothing to warrant your abuse!"

The witch glared at him, such a piercing look of hostility coming from her icy eyes that he, himself felt the need to create some distance between them. Angelique's eyes narrowed furiously. "I advised you to stay away from her and yet you refused. Kathleena Tell has one single purpose on this earth, Barnabas! She will be the instrument of your torture! She will be your final downfall!" At his stunned expression, she continued, with pleasure. "Did you truly believe meeting her was purely a chance encounter?" Angelique laughed then, the sound utterly sinister. "Do you not remember my warning? 'You will never be able to love anyone, for whoever loves you will die!'"

The vampire's brows shot up and his sharp gaze flew to her face, a face now evil and twisted in jealousy and rage. "It was you who -? Did you also make me fall in love with her? Did you make me forsake Josette?"

The sorceress had gone absolutely white with shock. "You … what?!" So soon? That wasn't in her plans.

Barnabas stared at her for a moment and then a chuckle, deep and rich stemmed from his throat. "Your scheme has failed miserably, bitch." He stepped closer and to his amazement, the witch backed away. Quick as a flash, he grasped her upper arms painfully, holding her, forcing her to stare down at the bed. "Look at her." When she refused, he shook her roughly, her blonde head jerking to and fro on her slim neck. "I said to _look_ at her!" Shuddering at the all-powerful anger in his voice, at the pain caused by his touch, Angelique begrudgingly obeyed his order.

"Kathleena is a beautiful woman, sweet and kind, and truth be told, in some aspects like Josette. However, in the most important way, she is completely different. She does not fear what I am, what you have made me. Why, Angelique? Tell me! Why is she not afraid? You have cursed her with this ability to know me, and yet, instead of turning away, she offers herself to my hunger. That is one thing no one has ever done willingly, not even Josette!"

Unable to touch her a moment longer, Barnabas viciously flung her away and Angelique had to catch herself on the bedpost to keep from tripping into the fire. "The expression on your face tells me everything. Just as I cannot control her will, you cannot control her emotions, can you? You can show her images of what can and will be and still she remains undaunted. Do you know why, damn you?! It is because Kathleena is unafraid of death itself. She welcomes it, longs for it! She actually begged me to kill her!" Staring into the young woman's beautiful face, he added wistfully. "She is unlike any other human I have ever experienced."

Directing piercing eyes toward his nemesis, he growled exposing his fangs as he advanced on her dangerously. "No! She does not fear _me_! This animal, Duncan, is the only one she truly dreads. What role does he play in all of this?" Barnabas clutched Angelique's slim wrist, grinding the delicate bones until she cried out in pain. "Tell me!"

Panting, she glared at him defiantly and then smiled resentfully at Kathleena, her icy eyes shooting blue flame. "Time will tell, Barnabas. Time will tell!"

With a ferocious snarl, the vampire released her watching dispassionately as she massaged sensation back into her bloodless hand. "Before you _leave_, Angelique, I have a present for Kathleena." Reaching into the breast pocket of his suit coat, he smiled. "Would you care to see what it is?"

The witch's face fell. Surely he wouldn't- "Barnabas, it would indeed be an ill-advised thing to do to propose to her," she warned ominously.

Arching a thick black brow in surprise he looked away, a startled expression on his dark features. "Propose?" he said with a mirthless chuckle, "Is that what you-? Do you think I would marry _anyone_ in this condition" As Barnabas shook his dark head incredulously, a stray lock of hair fell nearly into his eyes. Despite her anger, Angelique's fingers yearned to push it back, to touch him lovingly. Suddenly she was torn from her fantasies by his vicious, mocking laugh. "I see that you are truly confused by my intentions, Angelique." Removing the plainly wrapped item, he nobly offered it to her. "Since it is because of you that she is unable to grasp its beauty at the moment, perhaps you would care to do the honors?" As she eyed him suspiciously, curiosity ultimately got the best of her. Grabbing the package, Angelique quickly undid the ribbon, failing to notice the bright gleam of triumph in Barnabas's now smiling eyes.

"Nooo!" she shrieked, viciously hurling the package at his head. Clutching it in midair, he tore off the rest of the paper and held aloft the powerful amulet as the enchantress recoiled to a darkened corner of the room. "Damn you, Barnabas Collins!" she screeched. "You think this is over? This will _NEVER_ be over!" In the next instant, the blonde witch was gone.

Quickly lifting Kathleena's head, he gently placed the chain around her slim throat, the talisman lying upon her chest. "Kathleena, come now. It's time to awaken. It's Barnabas… Barnabas! Look at me." Feeling his strong hand gently tap her face, Kathleena froze deep inside herself. **_(No. Please no. Not Barnabas!)_** How she wished to remain as she was, asleep forever. She did not want to face this life, the future that stretched out hopelessly ahead of her.

"Kathleena, you forget, I am able to read your thoughts. We must talk. Angelique was here."

Slowly her eyes began to open and Barnabas reeled back at the look of unbearable pain in her pale stare. "I know," she whispered. Suddenly Kathleena gasped as she noticed the deep scratches on his face. Running her long fingers softly against his wounds, she remembered. "My God, what have I done?"

Clasping her hands he shook his head. "Kathleena, do not fear, they will be gone very soon. I heal almost instantly. That's not important now. Come, we must talk."As he helped her to rise, she felt something heavy jerk against the back of her neck. Staring down, she fingered an elaborate medallion, casting him a questioning glance."It will protect you from Angelique's evil control, but you must wear it always. Never remove it. Not for an instant, for she will be waiting to strike."

Kathleena sadly shook her head. She was not the one in need of protection for he, he was the one in danger. Looking up into his warm gaze, she quickly turned away. "You should not have returned, Barnabas. I didn't wish to see you again." She closed her against her blatant lies. With a deep sob, she covered her face, unwilling to reveal her deceit. "You must leave. Please leave now. This moment! I am a danger to you! I know now why Angelique wanted me. What her plans are for me. And for you."

Barnabas sat still and silent, waiting to discover what she would freely divulge. She bounded from the bed and paced about the room. "We had no choice but to meet. Don't you see? Angelique thrust us into each other's lives for a purpose. A vile, evil purpose..." Kathleena stared out into the night and following her gaze, Barnabas stood, his hand tightening desperately on the head of his cane.

"Kathleena-!" His voice was thick with sudden fear. A deep-seated fear he'd known before.

"I will not be the cause of your torment, Barnabas!" she said, her voice thick with firm resolve, "I will not!" Hitching her skirts, she pushed through the double doors and without hesitation leapt from the terrace. Her final thoughts were of the single night of pleasure spent with Barnabas at the cave, thankful to have such a wonderful memory to relive in the seconds before she knew no more.

And then, then she was flying! Soaring high above the trees. What was happening? Was this death? Surely not, for there was no bone breaking pain. Feeling a strong tug from above, Kathleena looked up. The curved talons of an enormous bat were clutched tightly about her upper arms; its giant leathery wings beating powerfully in the star-studded night. As she struggled violently against the creature, it swooped down lowering her gently to the frozen ground below. Immediately, Barnabas Collins stood before her.

Oddly unaffected by his incredible transformation, Kathleena viciously flung herself at the vampire, bashing her fists into his chest. He simply stood there taking the brunt of her anger, her frustration at being thwarted in her foolish attempt at suicide. "Damn you, Barnabas! Why won't you allow me to die? It's what I want! I hate you," she cried, tears flowing freely, "I hate you!" Her ear splitting screams and curses, most of them in French, had soon tempered into hopeless cries and moans. In utter defeat, she collapsed weakly against him and he scooped her up into his cold embrace carrying her into the manor and up to her room.

Sitting in the chair beside her, he pulled himself closer and she turned away. He had to remove her depression somehow.

"Kathleena," he growled, "You _will _listen to me."

Never before had she heard him speak to her in such an intimidating way. She turned back 'round, gazing up into his dark eyes. Immediately, Angelique's horrendous words returned.

As she opened her mouth, he simply said, "Say _nothing_!"

Aghast, she fumed, her face turning red as her blood began to boil. She'd had enough edicts in her life. No more! Seething, she clambered to him, her breasts heaving in fury. As she raised a credible fist under his elegant nose, Barnabas watched as her pale blue eyes stared courageously into the very depths of his soul. "I will never be silent! Never again, do you hear? Duncan had taken that away from me for so long. Although you were the one to restore my voice, even you haven't the right to demand that I be quiet." Her face fell as she realized what she said.

He smiled warmly at her. "Now, we can talk." Seeing the look of pain cross her beautiful features, Barnabas cleared his throat. Perhaps tonight was not the night for this.

"She told me everything."

He remained silent for a moment, he could let this drop or – "And what is—everything?" Barnabas heard himself ask.

"Although she had initially agreed to wed me to Duncan, it appears that Marie had a pang of conscience. She'd gone to Angelique and implored her to release me from their bargain. Having future– designs where I was concerned, the witch naturally refused." Kathleena shivered uncontrollably, no longer able to look at him. "Angelique fearing my mother would dispute her right to claim me after I was born, murdered Marie during childbirth, making it seem as if she had died of typical complications."

Barnabas stared at her. She was cold and unemotional as she spoke of her mother. Understandable, he supposed. Kathleena had never met the woman and still all the havoc she had caused. "What of this Duncan? What part does he play in her plans?"

She shook her head angrily. "He was simply a means to her gain. Angelique despises Duncan, that's evident. There was such contempt in her voice every time she mentioned his name. Without her abilities, he is an altogether huge disappointment, despite his efforts to please her with his show of ferocity and death." Closing her eyes, Kathleena remembered not only her pain at his hands but the tragic death of her brother. Sweeping away a tear, she continued, "Angelique is aware that Duncan wishes to marry this Claudette, but since she refuses to release me from this agreement, so must he suffer." Suddenly staring down at her fingers she added, "hence the reason he abuses me."

Barnabas looked at her in that moment and, catching his eye, Kathleena instantly turned away."Why did Angelique give you the ability you possess?"

"I – I truly don't know," she said with a curious tone, her brow deeply furrowed. "I'd asked, naturally but Angelique refused to say. She only said that I am to be the…" with a sudden sob, she flung herself from the bed, facing him. "... to be the bane of your existence! Oh Barnabas! Leave here! Leave and don't ever return!"

Slowly he rose and stood before her. Grasping her chin in his large icy hand, Barnabas captured her eyes with his. Shaking his dark head he whispered, "That is now impossible, Kathleena."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"No Barnabas." Kathleena whimpered, turning to the window in a feeble attempt to hide her heartache. His deep affection for her was palpable; pouring from his fingertips as he lovingly touched her. Mon Dieu! He - He forsook the memory of Josette, for nothing! Love was an impossible emotion. Angelique had made certain of that. And Duncan. While completely averse to the idea of marrying her, he will come to claim her as his bride, of that she had no doubt. If simply for no other reason than the pure pleasure of destroying her after their vows are exchanged. To punish her for being born, for postponing the nuptials to his heart's desire if, in fact he truly had a heart to begin with.

Totally absorbed with her all-consuming thoughts, Kathleena was surprised when Barnabas gently slid his large hands about her waist, drawing her back into the firm circle of his comforting embrace. Powerless to resist, she rested her head against the solid wall of his chest for a brief moment, sighing in relief as he wrapped himself securely about her. Why? Why did she feel completely shielded when she was with him? As if nothing or no one could touch her, harm her. Suddenly, Angelique's vicious words returned to terrify her. "Just as he had Josette before you, Barnabas will love you. When you die, he will completely break. Never again will he hope to love another mortal! And then… then, he will _turn to me! _How long I have waited for my ultimate triumph… Barnabas's realization that we were _always_ destined to be together!"

Dear God in heaven, No! She couldn't allow that to happen! She couldn't love him, she wouldn't… Turning in his arms, Kathleena looked up into his warm eyes. She must disillusion him, to end his love for her. And then, she felt it. As his icy breath wafted gently along the sensitive skin of her neck, those wonderfully familiar sensations of awareness resonated throughout her entire being, thrilling her. She knew what was to come and she longed for it desperately! _Yes. Yes! Dear God!_With a wild cry, she reached up behind his head, urgently yanking him to the quick beat in her throat. "Please Barnabas," she begged, digging her sharp nails into his bloodless flesh. "Please, take what you need!"

Moaning her name, Barnabas smoothly pierced her taut skin with his razor-sharp fangs in the very next instant. Kathleena pitched tightly against him as her life giving blood spilled easily down his throat. It never ceased to amaze him how she so willingly offered herself to his overpowering hunger. All of her delirious pleasure was fixated on the spot where icy mouth and lips drank from her, _consumed_ her! Suddenly her eyes flew open with awareness. She wanted more, needed more of this man… Needed him, in _all _ways. To experience the love, the ecstasy he had to offer. To hell with Duncan and Angelique! To hell with any possible repercussion. Her future was so uncertain. What if she was to die tomorrow? With heartfelt resolve, Kathleena swore she would enjoy life tonight! To experience what the evil duo would try to deny her.

As the vampire licked away his tale tell marks from her throat, Kathleena stared up into his dark eyes, her passion and desire splayed naked before him. Barnabas returned her gaze and, in that moment, their souls met. Lowering his icy mouth to hers, he murmured huskily against her warm lips." Kathleena, I-"

On the cusp of declaring his love for her, she wailed, "No, Please!" She'd not wanted to hear those words when she was unable to return his sentiment. Perhaps, if she tried very hard, she could pretend. Yes, but only for one night. Tonight, there was no maniacal fiancé, no nefarious, hate filled witch. Just she and he... alone. Together. "Although I know it's wrong of me, I want you… No," she shook her head quickly correcting herself, "…I _need you_ to love me, Barnabas. I've never needed anything so desperately in my life."

Smiling widely and lowering Kathleena to the coverlet, the vampire slid down alongside her, enjoying the feel of her body, warm and tight pressed against him. Dear Lord above, how in the hell was he going to give her pleasure when all he wanted to do was plunge into her so fiercely, so insanely in that very instant. Groaning inwardly, he remarked the nervous expression which now marred her beautiful face. Of course she knew. With her ability, he could hide nothing.

Propping his head on his hand, he gazed down at her. A look of such incredible desire darkened his features, making him appear almost wicked. "Kathleena, I do not wish to hurt you. Although I am unlike other men, I've been without a woman for so long, I am uncertain if even I can control myself."

Smiling shyly, she lifted a hand to the hollow of his cheek, trailing her fingertips along the pale skin. Closing his eyes, he moaned at the tenderness of her touch. Raising herself, she innocently kissed his jaw and he trembled, shocked at her initiative. "Look at me, Barnabas," she whispered. As she stared deeply into his burning gaze, she shook her head. "I am here with you of my own accord, my own desire." Grasping his large hand, she placed it on her right breast, feeling his long fingers gently cup her. "Don't tell me… show me."

As large fingers nimbly undid the miniature pearl clasps marching along the bodice of her cream colored gown, she shoved his hands away. Sliding to the opposite side of the bed, Kathleena stood and, without hesitation, clutched the hem of her dress, drawing it over her head and tossed it to the floor. Barnabas stared at her as she was left in nothing but a lacy shift and fine white stockings fastened to her thin but muscular thighs with delicate bows.

Unable to resist, he arose from the bed coming to stand before her. Slowly, almost warily lest she recoil from him, he raised his hand and with icy fingers, grazed the bare skin above her barely covered breasts. As she breathed deeply he paused, a tense frown hardening his gaunt features. Crying out, Kathleena clutched desperately at the lapels of his fine jacket, "Please, Barnabas. I need you!"

Joyous feelings flowed over him as he offered up a silent plea for the ability to control himself, carrying her back to the bed. Lying on the soft coverlet, Kathleena watched, clearly captivated as Barnabas, generally calm and mannerly dashed to remove his clothes. His pale body quickly became a golden statue when reflected in the soft glow of the firelight.

Only when his long fingers drifted to the buttons of his trousers did she shyly glance away. The bed gave as he came to her and Kathleena shivered as Barnabas slid his firm body against hers, his icy erection pressing hard against her leg, nearing the juncture of her thighs.

Wanting to plunge himself deeply into her tight warmth, the vampire growled low in his throat. _Slow… I must find the_ _strength… _Kathleena watched as a myriad of pained looks crossed his face. His sharp fangs, extended with unbelievable need, were clenched tightly in his jaw. He was trying so desperately not to hurt her but she knew how difficult it was for him to fight for sanity for she could feel his struggles. Hoping to push aside his worries and hers, she smiled up at him.

"Barnabas, I know there is pain. I went to a girl's school in England for nearly a decade for heaven's sake. I would be lying if I told you I wasn't a bit nervous. But… I feel wild, frantic with need, as if I will die if you do not touch me. Please…"she begged. "Please…" Lifting herself, Kathleena removed her shift and tossed it beside her gown. As she made to remove the amulet, he stayed her hand.

"No, leave it. Always." Staring at her incredible breasts he hissed and, shoving her back against the bed, suddenly buried his face between the splendid globes. With a guttural moan, she arched up as he held a hard nipple between his teeth and began to lick it with his tongue tip. Sliding to other breast, he matched his sensual caresses from only moments before. Threading her fingers behind his head, Kathleena pulled him deeper against her flesh, unable to get enough of him.

Slowly trailing the cold tip of his tongue between her breasts and up along the hollow of her throat he was certain not to linger in that dangerous area for too long continuing upward to her shell like ear. As he nibbled the sensitive organ, Kathleena instinctively thrust herself up into him, her movement bringing him closer to the warm spot of his desire. Barnabas felt himself nearing madness. Despite all of his superhuman control, he could wait no longer...the time was now!

Kneeling before her sweet body, he spread her thighs; liquid essence proving to him that she was ready and eager. Placing the tip of his hard manhood at her entrance, inch by exquisite inch he entered her, her tight muscles gripping about him. Grinding his teeth, Barnabas fought for some semblance of control. This was unbelievable! He felt as randy as an untried youth. Sweat formed on his brow as he stared down at her lovely face.

Kathleena's eyes were glazed as his coolness filled her with delight until… until he bumped against the evidence of her innocence. In sudden pain, she cried out as he pushed against the resisting flesh. With her muscles quivering madly about him, Barnabas was sent over the edge.

"My God! I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I _will_ make it better, I promise." Confused by his words she opened her mouth until he covered her lips with his own. Absorbing her screams, he rammed through the firm barrier. Unwilling to cause her further pain, he summoned every ounce of control he possessed, forcing himself through sheer will to remain still.

Surprised, Kathleena opened her eyes and was immediately captured in his compelling gaze. As her body slowly adjusted to him, she felt the rending pain lessen and experimentally thrust her hips into his.

"No! Don't move!" he hissed through tightly clenched fangs, "Please, don't move. I can't hold on much longer!" And then, his nostrils caught her scent; the sweetness of her virgin's blood. He could feel it surging onto his sex deep within her. With a fierce groan, he lost what shred of control he possessed. "Kathleena!"

Thrusting himself deeply into her tightness over and over again, Barnabas quickened his pace. Yelling hoarsely to the ceiling, his long suppressed climax exploded. Drained, his body collapsed heavily on top of hers, his head resting on the pillow.

She shivered. His seed was as cold as ice as it flowed into her and she ached deep inside. Never in her wildest imaginings had she expected lovemaking to be like this. Looking at him, she knew he was unable to move, having completely exhausted himself.

In a panic, she froze as loud footfalls were rapidly approaching the bedroom. From what well of strength he did not know, Barnabas rolled off of her and covered them both as the large doors swung inward, crashing against the wall.

Having been peacefully asleep following a pleasurable bout of lovemaking with Page, Tierra instantly jolted awake. Barnabas's hoarse shout triggering an instant fear in her. Bolting from the bed, she threw on her robe and ran to the door. Page, certain he knew what the sound was, tried to stop her but she pulled from his grasp. She only felt a deep seated fear for her friend.

Now, frozen in shock, Tierra could do nothing but stand there and gawk at them. Turning into Barnabas's chest, Kathleena was utterly mortified, "Oh God!" she groaned. Page, who slept in the nude, had finally pulled on a dressing gown. Appearing alongside his beloved, he mercifully led her away, closing the doors behind them.

When they were again alone, she looked up at him. He could see the raw pain in her eyes and the trail of tears drying on her cheek.

"Kathleena, I – I don't know what to say."

"No Barnabas, it was my choice, but I don't understand...I knew there was pain, but so much?… why do women suffer making love more than once?"

Pulling her against the hard wall of his lean chest, he smiled, unable to resist. She was such an innocent.

"There must be pain when a woman is taken for the first time. Afterward, if a man is a caring and knowledgeable lover, there is no more hurt." Kathleena looked thoughtful. Slowly, she began to run her fingers absently through the dark coarse hair matting his taut stomach.

"And are you, Barnabas?"

Sighing in pleasure, he felt absolutely satisfied, enjoying the sensation of her warm lithe body in his arms and her hands toying with him. Suddenly he realized she'd asked him a question.

"Am I what?" the vampire queried.

Looking up into his chiseled face, Kathleena smiled shyly. "Are you both a caring and knowledgeable lover?"

With a frown Barnabas sighed sadly. "I must confess, I lost control of myself. I was selfish, allowing my desire free reign, I sought out my own pleasure rather than –"

She paused a moment, her smooth brow creasing. Staring up into his sable eyes she whispered, "Had I not fallen asleep, would you have taken me?"

He didn't pretend to misunderstand her. And he knew he couldn't lie for she already knew the answer. The thought never crossed his mind to deceive her in any case. "Yes, Kathleena." He nodded. "I would have."

"And yet, you hadn't."

"It would not have proper."

"Then ordinarily, you are a caring lover?"

"I believe so."

Propping herself on her hand, Kathleena looked into his eyes, finding no discomfort in their conversation. On the contrary, she was quite intrigued. "And knowledgeable?"

Thinking back on his younger years so very long ago, Barnabas recalled his first sexual dalliances with several of the house slaves in his father's service. Slaves, eager to teach a randy boy of fourteen how to please. Women he had bedded long before meeting Josette. And he remembered the love he had shared with Josette herself before she perished so violently. Then, of course there was Angelique... his one fatal mistake! He closed his eyes in pain.

"Yes Kathleena, I am knowledgeable."

Unwinding herself from his arms, she slipped from of bed and stepped behind her changing screen. Barnabas heard her sharp intake of breath and then the splashing of water. Moments later, she nuzzled warmly up against him. He breathed in her scent, she smelled of roses. Although she was sore deep inside she wanted more of this man. Wanted to experience the pleasure he had told her of.

Staring into his sable eyes she whispered,"Please teach me how wonderful love can be."

Without hesitation, the vampire took her on a beautiful, erotic journey full of kisses and licks and nibbles and caresses, and when he finally entered her, her heart leapt and soared as she reached the ultimate pinnacle of heaven.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Stretching luxuriously like a cat as a stream of bright sunlight spilled across her eyes, Kathleena awoke. Every bone in her body ached, her muscles stiff, and still she couldn't stop the deep smile of remembered joy from crossing her beautiful face. She was now a woman, in _all_ ways. Barnabas had shown her such incredible pleasure before - Tossing the next unwanted thought from her mind, she glanced at the time and her smile was quickly replaced with a frown. _Merde!_ (Damn!) She'd overslept. With a sigh, Kathleena flung off the coverlet knowing she couldn't linger longer than necessary, no matter how much she wanted to do so. She'd have to endure their outrage sooner or later. Washing quickly and donning an attractive soft blue gown she carefully picked her way to the morning room, pondering what she would say to her benefactors about her wanton behavior of last night. Overhearing their boisterous conversation trickling out into the hallway, Kathleena listened for a moment and sighed with thanks. They weren't speaking of her, Dieu Merci!

Giving Page a sensual smile over the rim of her teacup Tierra shivered, reliving in her mind's eye their wild lovemaking last night. With a shake of his head, he gestured to the doorway where Kathleena stood at the threshold, head lowered and hands clasped before her. "Good morning," she offered uneasily.

Her hostess rose and she braced for the tongue lashing that was certain to come. Instead, Tierra grasped her hands gently. "Good morning to you, Kathleena. Come in, my dear and break your fast with us. Would you care for a cup of coffee?" At her nervous nod, Tierra smiled at Courtney and the maid served her immediately. "Now, what would you like? Doubtless, you are rather hungry this morning." Clearing his throat, Page cast his beloved a quieting glance and, immediately recognizing her blunder, Tierra fell silent, a deep blush reddening her cheeks.

Taking a choking sip from her cup, Kathleena gathered her thoughts and swallowed hard past the lump that was quickly forming. "I am so very sorry for my actions last evening. I've not shown you the respect you deserve and I-"

With a raise of his hand, Page effectively quieted her. "We think no less of you. Honestly we don't. Take whatever happiness you can find, wherever you can find it." Shaking her chestnut tresses, Kathleena couldn't believe his words and yet his voice sounded so sincere. Lifting her gaze to his, she stared deeply into his eyes, finding nothing but the truth in his astonished expression. The sudden realization hit her hard and she covered her face with her hands. "No! Dear God, what have I done?"

Dreading a repeat of last night, Page stood and gently grabbed ahold of her shoulders in an attempt to ease her anxiety. "Kathleena, I know you are afraid to look at me for fear of some unknown punishment, but—"

Shaking her head violently, she sobbed, "I have lived with this for too long. You don't understand! You can't!"

"Then tell us," he urged. "Tell us and we _will _understand."

"No!" Kathleena screamed in panic, her voice muffled for her face was still buried in her hands as if she was fiercely guarding herself. "If I do, he will slaughter you both!" Mon Dieu, every word that came out of her mouth was putting their lives at more and more risk. Wrenching herself away, she tore from the room as the couple stared at each other in mute shock, unable to move. Darting past a very surprised James standing at the entryway, she flew down the weathered steps. Dear God, where was she to go? What was she to do?

"Barnabas," she whispered, "Barnabas."

No, she had to be gone by nightfall. He wouldn't be able to help her in any case. On the contrary, she could only harm him. Kathleena simply had no choice, she must leave. She must!

Running to the stables, she froze as she spotted Rory, the stable lad. He stared at her, at the tears in her eyes. "Miss Tell, be somethin' wrong?"

"Deidra. Please ready her for me and be quick about it."

Concern clearly evident in his hazel eyes, he knew he couldn't refuse. This lassie be an odd one. "Aye Miss, ri'away." He watched as she stared impatiently from the window, fearing the pair would come before she made her exit. As he prepared her mount, Rory remarked offhandedly, "Beggin' yer pard'n, but if yer plannin' on ridin' ta'day, ye won't be gettin' far wearin' that." Staring down at herself, Kathleena groaned. The boy was right and yet she knew she couldn't return to fetch her cloak.

She tossed her head at her mare. "Is she ready?"

Surprised, Rory nodded automatically. "Aye, but I'm tellin' ye, ye won't last long out there. Ye'll probably get inflammation."

"Then let it be so. I simply don't care!" Kathleena rounded on the young man, furious. Pushing passed him, she led Deidra from the stall and mounting quickly, galloped east, praying she would find it… and him.

Not five minutes later, Page flew into the stable clutching Kathleena's ermine cloak in one hand and slapping his riding crop against his thigh with the other. "Rory," he growled ferociously, "which way did she head?" Seeing Mr. Vogel, the boy nearly collapsed with relief. "East, sir, she headed east," he replied with a huge sigh. Nodding curtly, he motioned for Broderick to be readied, muttering under his breath, "The chit is clearly deranged." Silently Rory couldn't help but agree. Less than ten minutes later, Page was charging his stallion from the stable following her mare's hoof prints in the hard packed snow.

Shivering with cold, Kathleena foolishly galloped Deidra into the blustery wind, huddling close against the mare's muscular neck, absorbing her warmth. She surely _would_ die if she couldn't find her way. Why, oh why had she fallen asleep on her return to the manor that night? With a sigh, she knew why. Barnabas's nearness was so comforting to her. She felt incredibly safe in his arms. Suddenly she paused at a chilling thought. Would Barnabas be resting at the cave if she did find it? Determined, Kathleena nodded. _He must be! He must!_ Even though he would surely be unconscious, she realized that she had to see him one last time before she left. She had to wish him goodbye. Prepared to urge Deidra faster, Kathleena drew up short. Barring her way sat Page atop his graceful steed, breath steaming in the air from flaring nostrils of both beast and rider.

Out of years of habit, she turned her gaze and then quickly decided against it. What was done couldn't be undone. Trotting to the bay, Page hurled her her cloak in fury. Rather than be slighted, Kathleena gratefully drew the warm material about herself sliding her arms in the long sleeves, arms which had turned blue with cold. "Are you absolutely senseless, woman? What in God's name are you doing? _Where_ are you going?"

Clutching the fur more tightly around her shivering frame, she merely shook her head. "I told you. I -I can't explain. Only that he—"

"Oh, yes, the infamous "he". Who is this he, Kathleena? This _he_ who will kill - oh wait, I apologize - will _slaughter _both Tierra and myself if you told us what is happening? That is the word you used, isn't it? Slaughter?" Page's eyes narrowed furiously. "I truly begin to wonder, if there actually is a "he" or is this just another excuse to avoid any explanations for your preposterous behavior."

Suddenly, a rider atop a black stallion appeared beside them. Page's eyes widened in surprise. Kathleena was not so moved. "I assure you, sir, I am quite real." Although he'd spoke cordially, Duncan turned obsidian eyes toward her, eyes filled with unspeakable rage. "Isn't that correct "dear"? He sneered mockingly.

"And just who are you, sir?"

Pinning Page with a look of astonishment, he laughed maniacally. "Who am I? Surely you jest." Noting the man's continued look of confusion, he turned to her. "Do you mean to say that my _fiancé_ has not spoken of me?" He placed a hand over his heart. "Why Kathleena, I am simply crushed."

Closing her eyes, she winced at his hated words. With brows lifted a good inch, Page looked at her. "This is true?" At her reluctant nod, he rounded on her. "Was this the "secret" you were keeping from us?"

"You don't understand," she pleaded her eyes brimming with tears, " I couldn't —"

"You're right, I _don't _understand." Duncan smiled evilly as he watched on in avid amusement. Her whole world was falling apart. How he reveled in her misery. "Why didn't you simply tell us you were off to meet your fiancé? And Barnabas—" At the mention of his name, Kathleena's head shot up, her blue eyes full of inexplicable fear. Giving him a barely perceptible shake of her head, Page fell as silent as a stone.

"Barnabas?" This from Duncan. "Who is Barnabas?" he demanded sharply, his eyes narrowed viciously.

Staring at her, Page realized she was terrified of this man's nearness. The woman was actually trembling and it was not from the cold. Then why in God's name was she marrying him? "My brother." The lie came quickly and easily to his lips. His thoughts in a whirl, he made an attempt to clutch her arm when a pistol was produced from Duncan's belt. Immediately Page lowered his hand. What the hell? "What is going on here, Kathleena?"

As Duncan lifted the pistol to the level of his foe's heart, Kathleena screamed, "No, please!" she implored him desperately, trotting her horse forward to block her friend's body with her own, "I've told him nothing! I've told no one!" hoping beyond hope that he accepted her words to be true. Turning to Page, she warned, "Leave!" At his steadfast refusal, she clutched his hand and gasped in fear at the loud click of Duncan's weapon as he pulled back the hammer. "Please! I beg of you. There's no time! Leave here now!" Kathleena winced as the vile man maneuvered himself and was now aiming the gun pointedly at Page's head.

"I can't leave! Dear God, he will kill you!"

"No," she shook her head, turning back to Duncan, cringing at the evil sneer pasted on his handsome lips. While she stared at him, Kathleena directed her words toward the other man. "No, he _will not_ kill me, I promise you." It was not time. Unimaginable, mind numbing pain yes, death again to her friend, she whispered with a slight smile. "I will return, you'll see. Now, you must go!" Seeing he still hesitated, she added, "I can't have your death on my conscious and he is certain to kill you."

Sadly she watched as Page, his shoulders slumped, turned Broderick and bolt down the road. "That was truly a touching scene." He lined the silhouette of the retreating man in his sights. Aghast, Kathleena daringly brushed the gun aside. "Vous êtes un salaud absolu!." (You are an unmitigated bastard!)

His hands itched to strike her for her for her insolent remark. _Later and with incredible pleasure._ Instead he taunted cruelly, "Ah, so the prey finally speaks." Casting him a contemptuous glance, she turned away. "You must tell me how you have regained your voice. If you refuse," his voice was thick with obvious anticipation, "I shall simply have to beat the information from you."

Turning in her saddle the Frenchwoman looked at him, her brow furrowed. "What trick is this? Surely you are aware how my speech was restored."

Finding himself at a loss, Duncan asked, "How the hell would I know?"

She stared at him. Was it possible Angelique hadn't told him? If not, the witch was truly an enigma. Kathleena fully expected her to take great pleasure divulging secrets, adding more fuel to his fury. Did she genuinely despise her son so much? Despite her inexplicable show of bravado, Kathleena trembled as an unholy light seemed to cause his eyes to glow. "I am truly glad that you are able to speak again." At her raised brows, he added nastily, "How long I have wanted to hear you scream in agony at my hands."

Facing him squarely, she hissed, her voice dripping with utter sarcasm, "Well, it shouldn't be much longer now, should it?"

Taken aback at her indifferent attitude, Duncan slowly trotted Wyvern up to her. How could this be? Where was her fear? As mean as a snake and just as quick, he struck her sharply across the face, the sound like a rapport of a gun in the still clearing. The blow came from nowhere and Kathleena nearly tottered from her seat before righting herself. "Fear me, you bitch!" he hissed maliciously.

"I can't," she said courageously, "for it is not yet time for me to die. I will live though whatever you do to me and I will heal as I have done many times before." Kathleena was truly shocked at the words that flowed from her mouth.

Duncan could do nothing more than stare at her for a moment, speechless and then he laughed maniacally. "You believe that so strongly do you?" Kathleena tried to stop the tremble, but attuned to her every nuance, Duncan saw it, smiling wickedly. "Why the hell should I continue this charade? Perhaps I shall simply choose to kill you now and wed Claudette sooner rather than later."

"Then my pain will finally be over, won't it?" she threw back at him. From what fount this continued bravery was coming, she herself didn't know. Perhaps her dealings with Barnabas had changed her in some profound way. Whatever the reason, she realized it felt good, damned good to see the look of uncertainty on his face for once.

Grabbing her arm, Duncan snarled in rage. "You cannot be that damned blasé!"Looking directly into his handsome eyes, Kathleena shrugged dismissively. Furious, he threw himself at her, slamming her from her horse to the frozen ground below. As she stared up at him, she saw the very depths of hell itself. "Now we shall see how unfeeling you are about this situation my "dear..." and the pleasure will be all mine. I promise you that!"


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

In the very heart of the pitch black cavern Barnabas stood, holding his arms wide, summoning her. The incredible fury he felt within, brought on by Page's report of the earlier events of the day, knew no bounds. "Angelique! Angelique! You _will _come to me!" Although his voice was firm and clear, it belied the emotions raging through him. What was happening to Kathleena at this very moment? What was that bastard doing to her? Was she dead? No! He dismissed that thought the moment it had materialized. Surely he would know if she was dead. He would feel it in his – heart. With a tormented growl, Barnabas bellowed, "I know you can hear me, witch. Appear to me, _now_!"

His penetrating eyes burned with rage as the evil woman arrived in her characteristic showboat fashion, a pale shaft of ethereal light. Without warning, Angelique found herself caught in his vice like grip, his large hands enveloping her long neck. "Where is your son?" he hissed, "Where has he taken her? Tell me!" Slowly, he slackened his hold to allow the woman the ability to speak.

The witch screamed, digging into his bloodless fingers with her nails. "I don't know!" she gasped, trying to draw in any bit of air. She was aberrantly terrified. As he clutched her throat, Angelique could consciously feel her aura vanish; her very life was gradually ebbing away. Why were her unearthly powers not enough to protect her? Now she began to panic. Where was her master when she evidently needed him so?

The vampire's grip tightened painfully. "Don't defy me, bitch! You know everything! You control everyone! Now, where are they?" Closing her eyes in silent prayer, Angelique beseeched her master for help. _Where are you? Do not forsake me! Do not allow him to triumph!_ Could Barnabas finally defeat her at last? No. Never defeat. The master would allow her to return… eventually; once she was properly penalized for her transgressions. But then it would be too late; he would have Kathleena! The witch growled deep in her chest. All her plans for vengeance, all those years… squandered. No! She would not let that happen!

"Alright," she gasped, glaring up at him with icy, hate filled eyes. "I'll find them!" She struggled fruitlessly against his overwhelming grasp. "Release me!" Comprehension dawned and Barnabas chuckled maliciously at the dire straits in which Angelique found herself. "Or," he hissed, "I can find Kathleena myself and finally rid the world of your evil once and for all!" Angelique's eyes narrowed furiously. "Before Duncan kills her?" she taunted heartlessly. "Do you really want to take that chance?" Barnabas's face fell, a frown deepening his gaunt brow. A look of triumph flashed across her features, she had him and he damn well knew it. Flinging her away so ferociously that she slammed against the wall, the vampire was in her face before she could gather herself, his teeth bared with hands on either side of her head.

"Find her, Angelique, and should you fail, - well, - I suggest that you don't," he growled ominously.

Desperate to escape those hard penetrating eyes, Angelique ducked under the cage of his arms. He turned, watching on in a perverse awe as she raised her hands toward the barren fire pit. Gradually, a glowing cinder appeared, followed by a reedy flare and lastly, a crackling fire; the flames leapt high, popping and sizzling.

As he came to stand beside her, she, for once did not welcome his closeness. Nervous, the sorceress swiftly began her invocation. "Energies of fire… You are my window, my portal to the entire universe…we are one, connected for all eternity..." Casting Barnabas a look so fretful and fleeting, she continued, "…I command you to show me the one I seek. Show me Kathleena Tell."

Recognizing instantly the confused scowl on the witch's beautiful face, Barnabas stepped closer, menace in his piercing eyes. Afraid, she hurriedly moved to the opposite side of the pit. Arching his dark brows, he glared at her; the flames flickering upon his pale skin made him appear irrevocably sinister. Startled, Angelique's quizzical gaze returned to the fire. There were no revelations this night. What could possibly be awry? Where was Kathleena? Had Duncan truly killed her? If so, she had no doubt that this would be her last night on earth.

As if reading her thoughts, the vampire strode angrily though the licking flames to get to her and her blue eyes widened in disbelief as he emerged, unscathed. Barnabas seized her arm, twisting it sickeningly behind her. "Where is she?!"

"I don't know, truly," she stammered quickly, trembling now. "Perhaps…perhaps she is wearing the talisman you gave her and it is preventing me from connecting with her." _Yes!_ she nodded fervently, _Yes, that's it! That must be it. It was his fault. His, for giving her the damned amulet, not hers!_

"Dammit!" Barnabas hissed. Suddenly he stared down at her, evil in his penetrating gaze.

"Beckon your son."

Despite her peril, Angelique vehemently shook her head. Although she completely ostracized Duncan, still he was her son, her blood. She would essentially be summoning him to his death. "No," she said hotly, "I won't!" At her reticence, he pulled her close, his fangs touching, nearly piercing the smooth skin of her throat. "Call him, now, or I will make it so you will be powerless to resist me." The witch shivered and he smirked. How ironic to have her curse used against her. They both knew what would happen were he the one in control.

"Duncan," she whispered.

Barnabas raised his head and laughed mirthlessly into her ear, "You'll have to do better than that, Angelique."

She closed her eyes, desperately trying to focus through her distraction as he purposefully blew his icy breath against her skin, taunting her. "Duncan. You will come to me! I must see you. Come to me now! You will hear my voice and you will respond. I am waiting for you!" Her eyes flew open and she glowered at the vampire she had created so long ago. He was summoned.

The pair stared at each other in silence; icy, malicious blue bore into piercing, burning brown until the very air seemed to crackle with their mutual animosity.

Hearing the faint sound of hoof beats gradually approaching, he roughly thrust Angelique before him as a safeguard, cognizant that it could be a fatal mistake were he to underestimate the threat her son posed.

As he slid through the entrance, Duncan's eyes narrowed murderously. "What is this?"

Barnabas snarled in disgust as he assessed his young adversary. Pure evil, through and through. A striking face to conceal a devil's soul. Like mother, like son. Tightening his painful grip on Angelique, he hissed, "Where is she? Where is Kathleena?" At the man's triumphant curl of the lip, the vampire's hand flew tightly to the witch's throat, his large onyx ring glittering obscenely in the firelight. "I _will_ _not_ ask you again," his voice now deathly ominous.

Alarmed and confused, Duncan gawked at Angelique, noting the deep fear in her eyes. Fear was an emotion he had never witnessed before on her face. No, he thought. His mother was all powerful. "Free yourself!" he demanded.

With a vicious grin, Barnabas continued to exert force until she could do nothing more than utter a pathetic squeak, nearly crumpling were it not for the clawing grip on her windpipe. "I will not relinquish her until I have Kathleena. Have I made myself _absolutely_ clear, damn you?" Comprehension dawned and Duncan's eyes narrowed. "_You_ are the one who restored her voice and removed my marks." he accused angrily. "_What_ are you?" Barnabas's arched brows raised a good inch. Was Kathleena correct? Did Angelique truly hate her son? Obviously she didn't hold him in her confidence. So, there were secrets between them, were there? He smirked evilly, "At the moment, I am the one who has complete control over your mother and, truth to tell, she hasn't much time left. Were I you, it would be best to get on your horse and show me where Kathleena is…_now_!"

"What do you want with-?"

"I recommend you make _haste_, boy." Barnabas warned though gnashed teeth, desperation running wild through his icy veins. With this animal, nothing was beyond possible. Kathleena was either dead or close to it and he had to get to her, immediately. Staring at her reddened face, a spurt of fear for Angelique's very life was the only defining factor that prompted Duncan to reluctantly mount his stallion and head off for the clearing. Clutching Angelique fiercely, the vampire morphed, flying high into the night.

Thoughts rambled through the handsome sadist's head as he urged Wyvern faster and harder. Who was this man who had the bullocks to challenge him? What demonic abilities did he possess to control Angelique so? Their powers seemed to rival each other's. He too, had the power to cure Kathleena. Duncan paused, his brow creased. What were his designs where she was concerned? Perhaps he should just drop his plans for the bitch and then he would be free to wed Claudette.

No. _She_ would not allow that to happen. Angelique was too hell bent on Kathleena's destruction. It was his destiny, a destiny drilled into him at an early age. No, he had to wait, to bide his time. Too, pride would not allow him to give her up. He relished the pleasure he garnered from her agony. Sliding the tip of his tongue along his lips, Duncan closed his eyes actually feeling himself harden as he remembered her high pitched screams, her wails as – He shook himself, shivering in remembered delight. Yes! Yes, he would be Kathleena's executioner and when the time finally came, he would welcome the task. For it was _she_ who was born, _She_, the reason he had to forego his true nuptials and _she _who will die in the most agonizing way he could possibly conceive.

A broad smile of incredible bloodthirstiness spread across his face as he daydreamt of the pleasure he would have in those final ticks of Kathleena's life. So distracted was Duncan in his sinful machinations that he failed to control his steed as, suddenly, Angelique plunged to the ground before them. Wyvern, rearing in fright, dumped his master out of the saddle. Shaken, son scrambled to mother as a huge bat lunged past, transforming once more into man.

In an instant, Duncan found himself clutched by the throat. Barnabas heaved the odious whelp high into the crisp night air with ferocious strength. "Where is she, you whoreson? Tell me!" Despite the danger he faced, the Frenchman smirked, unable to bury the bright gleam of enjoyment in his cold eyes. Eyes so very much like Angelique's, and just as evil, Barnabas thought.

"She's right there," he sneered proudly, staring over his captor's left shoulder. Following his vicious gaze, Barnabas fearfully turned and trembled with a mixture of revulsion and uncontrollable fury. Kathleena, naked and unconscious, was obscenely stretched between two sturdy elms, her bloodless wrists knotted securely with thick cords. Although held upright, her body was slumped forward and she was nearly driven to her knees as thick blood sluggishly oozed from the dozen lashes on her flayed back, blood that had trailed down her buttocks and legs to leach into the hard packed snow below.

"My God!" he mouthed in disbelief, absolutely horrorstruck. What agony had she endured during this animal's thrashing? If there was a merciful god above, she was unconscious for most of it, unaware of the leather strap slicing into her body over and over again. Unable to bear anymore, blazing eyes turned, nailing his opponent in a consuming glare. Duncan's face was met with a ruthless fist. A fist adorned with a black onyx ring. Warm blood spurted from a crushed nose as he fell limply in the vampire's grasp. Barnabas longed to pummel him into the earth until his lungs collapsed, until his ribs cracked in two, puncturing his black heart but he knew he had to first get to Kathleena. To see if she was... Viciously slamming the paltry piece of shit alongside Angelique, the Englishman cautiously approached the tortured woman, fear clearly present on his thin face. Guardedly, he felt for a pulse in her throat and such relief, relief as he had never felt before, raced through him. She was _alive. Alive!_

But the suffering she would face… he shook with renewed rage at the thought. Extracting the sharp rapier from his cane, Barnabas smoothly cut her down, gathering her lovingly, gently in his strong arms. All at once, the shrill mindless screaming began. Over and over… constant. Closing his eyes, he begged the gods for any show of leniency for there was nothing he could do to diffuse her misery. With tears in his eyes, his large hand wrapped about the handle of his weapon. Manic with the need for vengeance. Barnabas turned fully prepared to demolish the evil twosome, experiencing an equal amount of shock and frustration at the sudden realization that they had vanished into the stillness of the black night.

"I will find you, you bastard, and when I do, I will destroy you! I will extract my revenge! Mark me well, Fasette! _Mark me well!"_

Aware of the sudden silence that surrounded them, Barnabas looked down. Kathleena had again fallen into blessed unconsciousness, her beautiful face twisted in agony. He sighed, thankful that, for the moment at least, she was unawares. Glancing up at the position of the moon in the sky, he sighed again. There was so much to be accomplished before dawn. He must heal her, save her. Swaddling her nudity with his cloak and laying her gently on the ground he spread his arms wide. Sharp talons curled gently about Kathleena's upper arms and lifted her, still and unresisting, into the darkness.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

They were sitting on the divan, talking in quiet tones when a tall figure suddenly appeared in the doorway, so quiet as if he'd simply materialized at the threshold. Tierra gasped. "Dear God, tell me you found her! Tell me she's alright!" Shrinking back at the pained look in dark hooded eyes, she clutched her betrothed's hand as if it was a life line. "She's dead? Kathleena's dead?!"

At her desperate words filled with sorrow, Barnabas shook his head. "No, not dead. But she's wounded, critically, I'm afraid." Page jumped to his feet at the horrific words. "I must have laudanum; if you've none then I need whiskey or brandy, as much as you have, and bandages. Quickly!" Without question she dashed off, a choking sob flying from her throat. Page was left to stare at Collins. With a sad shake of his head, the man fell back as a wave of incredible guilt knocked him from his feet. He looked up at the Englishman.

"What did he do?" He whispered. He simply had to know.

"He beat her. He lashed the flesh from her back."

"No! My God!" Page closed his eyes with a heavy groan. In his mind he could see her pale blue eyes beseeching him to leave and still the blame he shouldered was phenomenal. "If only I hadn't deserted her-"

Barnabas raised his hand. "The time for second guesses has long passed. Hindsight will not help her now. Kathleena's alive and she will remain so." His deep voice was so full of conviction, Page didn't doubt it for an instant. He watched as Barnabas impatiently paced the room pausing to glare at the mantle clock. _What was taking so long?_

Breathless, Tierra returned in that instant, a satchel stuffed to the seams in her arms. She thrust it toward him. "Here ... take it... save her, please!"

As he headed for the door, Page bounded to his feet. "I'm going with you."

"NO!"

"Barnabas, I-"

Annoyed, he cast a darting glance at the position of the moon. So much to be done. "I've not the time to argue, I must return to her. Stay here. Believe me, it's for the best. At least for the moment. If I need help, I will tell you. I swear."

Despite his need to rush, Barnabas's placid gaze fell on Tierra. "Kathleena will return," he said with certainty. "I promise."

There was such a haunted emotion in his dark eyes, a barely discernible tremble to his voice, she had no choice but to believe him. With a nod she smiled sadly, her eyes watery, "Thank you, now please, you must hurry!"

As the couple watched him stride through the door, Tierra looked to Page and whispered, "He loves her."

With a nod, he gathered her tightly against the wall of his chest. "I know, darling. I know." He petted her hair as she sobbed wretchedly, her emotions finally hitting her at last.

"Surely she's done nothing to deserve _this_."

Page closed his eyes in a silent plea. _Save her Barnabas!_

* * *

She lay on her stomach, nearly drowning into the softness of the feather tick mattress when he returned. Tears were drying on her cheeks. As he strode quietly to her, Kathleena's eyes flew open and he froze at the deep anguish he saw.

"Barnabas," she groaned through clenched teeth. Her back felt as if it was on fire and she couldn't control the searing agony crashing over her. "Dear God! Take me now!" she pleaded, screaming as the pain engulfed her. "Yes, scream Kathleena," he said, encouraging her. "Scream if you must. Vent your anguish. We are alone. I am the only one who will hear you."

He closed his eyes in sympathy, recalling with sorrow the blessedly few occasions his father's house slaves were flogged for their defiance. Their hoarse cries for mercy, their piercing screams of unending pain filled the air long after the whip stopped falling. Placing the satchel on a chair, Barnabas hesitantly seized the brandy decanter, shaking his head at what was to happen. It was offensive and sadistic but necessary. He'd remembered how he helped those poor wretched workers so long ago.

"Please...please..." Kathleena chanted, her voice practically a low growl as she choked on both her words and her sobs. Long nails clawed into the soft mattress over and over again. Suddenly a fiery pain so unexpected, so unbearable and mind stopping ripped across her back. "No! Noooo!" she wailed. Kathleena pitched upward and screamed a deafening scream then crumpled upon the mattress, unconscious. Barnabas stood above her, the amber liquor emptied from the bottle onto her ravaged flesh, the strong libation dousing every raw slice, every oozing gash.

"Oh God Kathleena, I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry but it had to be done." But so vilely? Yes, he decided. Although it pained him to see her suffer so, the worst was over. A tear came to his eye and he brushed it away. Looking down, Barnabas fingered the talisman that still hung about her throat, surprised but immensely grateful it was still there. Thankfully Duncan did not know that significance in the charm. Good. Angelique would be powerless to find them. Kathleena will be safe while he rested for the day.

Carefully dressing her ragged flesh, he swept an errant lock of hair from her face. A beautiful face even now twisted with agony. Barnabas growled deep in his throat. He will slaughter that brutal bastard when next they meet. It shall be a death unlike any other. Perhaps he will fillet the man alive. Or possibly stake him in the sun and roast the flesh from his bones. Or, just perhaps, he will gut him like a fish, watching him flop and thrash on the ground as his entrails spills forth. A vicious smile crossed his gaunt features for whichever way he chose, Fasette will beg for mercy long before he gave it. And he will relish that final blow, delivering the vile whoreson to hell.

_Damn_!

The vampire paused in his pleasant fantasies. His terrible hunger was returning. Unconsciously gazing ravenously at the nape of her throat, he snarled, disgusted at himself. Tenderly settling his cloak over Kathleena's beaten body, Barnabas glared pensively out the window. He must hunt. He must feed before dawn. There wasn't much time left.

* * *

Returning with a pair of bloodless rabbits, he made a quick broth, placing the bowl beside her on the stand. Pouring a generous splash of laudanum into a glass, he raised her head. "Kathleena, come my dear. You must drink this. Just like in the cave, remember?"

"Barnabas?" she croaked past dry, cracked lips, the sound raw and ugly through a clenched jaw, as the ceaseless waves of torment rippled through her. "The pain... I burn so."

"I know," he whispered, putting the rim of the glass to her lips. "Drink this, it will help."

"No!" She pushed it away and shook her head, screaming out in agony. "No, please," she begged weakly. "Make me… what you…"

Barnabas rocked back on his heels. "Kathleena, what are you saying?"

Slowly, she lifted her hand to the cheek where she'd raked him with her nails. The marks had vanished; the flesh was smooth as if it had never happened.

"Make me-"

He immediately understood. She believed was she what he was, her pain would vanish as did his scratches. Clutching her hand, Barnabas held it firmly in his. "No Kathleena, I will _never_ do that to you. I will _never_ curse you as I am. Believe me please, although it is hard to envision now, this pain shall pass." Placing his icy lips to her warm flesh he kissed her fingers. "You will never feel the desperate hunger I face, night after night," He vowed. "It is, in many ways, a horrible addiction. I need blood. I must have it as a drunkard needs drink. I don't care how I get it. I will hurt, even kill for it. That will never happen to you. You will not become the vile monster I am."

Kathleena's eyes were dim with pain and glistening with unshed tears. Tears for him and the accursed plight he tackled, the self loathing he felt.

"You need never fear the sun's beautiful, warm rays," He said wistfully, remembering. "You need never sleep in a box as I do and you will never have to fear an enemy, ready to run you through with a stake to the heart." Barnabas closed his eyes against his words, words that pierced him so deeply. As sharp as any blade and yet, he had to make her understand. Vampirism was not a cure for her pain, it was a curse that caused a pain much worse then she felt even now. Lifting her small hand, he placed it on his face. "Feel my flesh Kathleena, feel how icy it is. And see the paleness. There's no blood coursing through these veins. It's because I am dead, dead for over half a century."

Yes, he was dead and she knew it. Knew from the very beginning and still she gave herself to him, freely. Smiling, his mind evoked images of her incredible reaction to their passionate lovemaking. To have a willing bride for all eternity… it's what he constantly yearned for. His fangs lengthened in frenzied anticipation. He felt the strong urge to kiss her throat. To drain her, until…

"No!"

He tore himself away in disgust. She deserved better than that. She deserved better than him. When Barnabas turned back 'round, her eyes were closed, her breath uneven but deep. She was asleep. Asleep or unconscious? Perhaps a goodly amount of both. Clutching the laudanum laced water glass, he placed it to her lips, rubbing her throat to force her to drink the potion. As he gazed down at her beloved face, he shook his dark head with powerful resolve.

"No Kathleena…never shall I turn you. Even if I must spend the rest of my accursed existence alone." Unbidden, his thoughts flew to Josette and those final moment of her life atop Widow's Hill. "Never again."

* * *

When next she awoke, the sun was a high ball in the mid morning sky. The pain was intense but not nearly as severe when she held herself completely quiet. Still, with the shudders that wracked her body, she struggled with the effort it took to do so. "Barnabas?" she called out. Opening her bloodshot eyes, Kathleena's brow furrowed as a sheet of paper lay beside her, demanding her attention. Slowly, she slid her hand up to clutch the note, reading his gracefully scrawled words.

Kathleena,

There is broth beside the bed. It will be cold but edible. Please eat. You must restore your strength. I will see you again when I arise this evening. You've nothing to fear. You are safe here.

B.C.

P.S. Remember, do not remove the amulet!

A sudden fear snaked through her. Arise? Where was he resting? Surely not at the cave where he would be at their mercy! Painfully slow and methodical, she turned her head to view the rest of the room. There, in a dimly lit area stood a simple mahogany coffin. Barnabas's coffin. Words came into her mind, strange words that confused her.

_'You will never have to sleep in a box as I do.' _

Suddenly she remembered. In the deepest throes of her agony, she'd pleaded with him to turn her, to make her as he was. To allow her to escape the pain.

Surely that wouldn't be so bad, would it? To be free of Duncan forever? To exist with Barnabas for all time? And yet, even _he_ was still plagued by Angelique and her malevolent ire. Was there no way to escape? For either of them?

Yes, she sighed, there _was_ an escape in a sense, at least for her. Her freedom would come in only three fleeting years. In what form that freedom would take would depend solely upon Duncan and his ruthless ingenuity. Until then there would be more hurt, more pain. Of that, she did not disbelieve for an instant.

Later, as Kathleena painfully hunched over her delicious, albeit cold meal, a bizarre unbidden thought came to mind. Although morbid, she wondered why Duncan had spared her vision. He hadn't burned out her eyes as he'd threatened to do so long ago. She'd looked upon Page as they spoke in full view of that malicious bastard. Could it be that he was becoming soft? Lenient? With a harsh cynical laugh, she fiercely hurled her unfinished meal at the wall, immediately regretting her show of anger for the wrenching pain defeated her and she was forced to lean over the side of the bed and spew what she had already consumed.

For the remainder of the day, between equal bouts of self-pity, severe agony and the remembered lashes she suffered at Duncan's merciless hands, Kathleena thought of Barnabas, replaying over and over, with pleasure the vivid images of the last night they spent together enveloped in each other's comforting embrace. If only her life was hers to control, she lamented. If only she hadn't been dealt the hand she was given, she could love him as he loved her. Yes. She could love an undead man...a vampire.

What was it about Barnabas Collins that drew her to him like a moth to a flame? Why did she not fear him as all others had? That was a question Kathleena asked herself many times. Could it be that she _did_ she love him? Was it the reason why she wanted him so? But how was love possible? She wasn't in a position to offer her heart to anyone. The oddest thing was that she'd chosen to be with him of her own accord. He had control over neither her mind nor her actions. Was it truly her choice or was Angelique forcing her to feel this way, using her as a pawn to punish Barnabas? Her hand flew to the protective talisman resting against her chest. She stared down as her long fingers caressed the beautiful piece. She was now sheltered from the witch's evil influence and still she felt so deeply for him. So focused was she in her contemplations, Kathleena failed to hear the lid of the coffin creak open. Only when a shadow fell across the bed did she glance up into warm brown eyes.

"Good evening, Kathleena, did you rest well?" Glancing about the room with a judicious eye, Barnabas noted both the sickness beside the bed and the broth bowl smashed against the wall. "You've had a bad time of it I see."


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

The time it took for her to heal passed by blessedly uneventful. Thanks to the protective amulet Barnabas had provided, neither Angelique nor Duncan knew of their whereabouts. Kathleena stretched against the soft eiderdown pillows, only slight stabs of pain remained to remind her of the brutal attack she suffered. One night during a quiet moment, she asked him a question that confounded her for quite a while. A question she should already know the answer to, for she read him well. Still, she was mystified.

"Barnabas?"

He sat in a chair beside the fire staring broodingly into the flames, his chin propped in his hand. At her soft voice, he turned with a warm smile. "Hmm?"

"I apologize for bothering you. You seem so quiet tonight. So deep in thought."

He shook his head and came to sit beside her on the bed. "Nonsense. What is it?"

She frowned, hesitant."In the cave, you restored my voice and removed my scars. I simply wondered why you cannot remove the wounds I now bear?"

Barnabas smiled sadly. "It doesn't make much sense does it?" At the shake of her head, he continued, "Unfortunately, flesh must be completely healed before I can attempt to erase the remnants. I, myself fail to understand why. That is why I had not, could not remove the burns seared into your skin when I first found you." He turned away. "I am, however able to remove the marks when I…" His deep voice trailed off, ashamed.

Kathleena understood. "You're hungry _now_, aren't you, Barnabas?"

"No," he lied. He _was_ hungry, desperately so. He licked his lips remembering the delicious taste of her blood, warm and sweet on his mouth. He watched her as she slept, night after night; warring with himself not to take her and, until this very moment, he had won. But now…? He growled low in his throat.

He flinched as she placed a small hand on his broad shoulder. "Do not deny yourself. Just as you have cared and comforted me through my pain, I am here for you now. I am here for you." Sweeping her long hair away from her throat, she murmured, her voice full and sincere. "Take me, Barnabas. Take what you need." Kathleena herself growled in response to the urgency she felt pouring from him.

The vampire turned to her, the undeniable lust for blood so strong in his black eyes. Wrapping her long fingers behind his head, she pulled him down to the pounding pulse in her slim neck. In one quick movement, fangs sank deeply into her flesh and she hissed with unbridled delight. Kathleena would always welcome his piercing bite. Welcome that moment when the world spun crazily before her eyes. Welcomed how much he needed her, wanted her. How much he loved her. Slowly her eyes drifted closed and a sweet smile touched her lush mouth.

Licking away his mark, he lowered her gently to the bed, covering her with the sheet. He stared at her beautiful face, so peaceful in slumber. How he loved her.

With a heavy sigh, Barnabas returned to the chair beside the fire, staring broodingly into the flames.

* * *

Another week had passed before he deemed Kathleena well enough to return to Vogel's manor. After arising one evening, the couple mounted Dalmiir and made the hour long journey. James greeted them at the door and Kathleena placed a silencing finger to her lips as the butler bid them entrance.

"Tierra?" she asked in hushed tones.

Taking their overcoats, James nodded toward the study.

"Welcome back, Miss Tell."

Barnabas acknowledge the man's kind greeting as she crept to the doorway and delicately knocked. "Come," Page called. A cry of immense surprise and happiness came wafting from the room and the servant smiled as he walked toward the galley to fetch refreshments. "My dear, how wonderful it is to have you back again, and Barnabas, thank you so much!" Tierra gushed as she carefully embraced her friend. Kathleena giggled realizing how much she missed such exuberance.

Page however, could but stand there and stare, dishonor robbing him of his voice. Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he hesitantly offered, "Welcome back."

Sensing his reticence, Barnabas shrewdly asked Tierra to accompany him for some air.

Standing before him, Kathleena touched his sleeve. The humiliation and misery were so deeply embedded into him. She knew it well for she experienced those emotions and much more many times over. "Page, look at me," she urged gently. When he refused, she lifted a hand to his cheek. "You mustn't blame yourself," she said, shaking her head, "I demanded you to leave me. You had no choice. It isn't your fault."

"I shouldn't have left … I shouldn't have listened," he hung his head. "I am a coward."

"No, you are not. Don't even think it," she said with conviction. "He would have killed you. As I told you in that clearing, I could not have your death on my hands. And if you also recall, I promised you that I would return, that I would not die, and here I stand before you." She twirled about. "I've kept my word."

He shook his head, turning away. "But the pain you had to endure. How can I bear myself, knowing it was my spinelessness that caused you to suffer?"

"Page, you couldn't save me," she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Believe me, please. It would have happened whether you were there or not. Were you there, you would be dead and then how would Barnabas have found me?"

"Kathleena, I-"

She stared deeply into his warm eyes. "No Page, let this be the end of it. Let go your feelings of self-blame and loathing. Please… for me?"

At his weak smile she patted his hand gently.

"Thank you, my friend."

* * *

Early the next morning, Kathleena secretly trekked into town, a sad smile on her lips as she returned to the manor, her mission concluded. Thankful nothing unpleasant had befallen her, she found the couple in the morning room, breaking their fast.

"They foretell of an early spring this year. Thank God for I can't wait to get my hands on those horses." As he folded his copy of _The_ _Lancaster Gazette, _Page noticed her standing in the doorway. "Good morning, my dear." He gestured to a chair. "Please, come and dine. I was just on my way to meet with the foreman and field hands to begin planning the propagation of the flocks." He wrinkled his nose. "Dreadfully dull." Turning to Tierra, he added, "I have to help the men round the sheep into their pens. I shall return by supper time." He kissed her chastely on the cheek, "Have a pleasant day, sweetheart."

"Be careful, darling."

Tierra poured her a cup of strong coffee. Kathleena sipped it and sighed. Finally the woman couldn't stand it another moment, she simply had to know.

"He does make you happy, doesn't he?"

Choking on her bluntness, Kathleena nodded. "Very much so." Looking Tierra in the eye, she sighed. "I've so little time left. The memories Barnabas has given me will last until Duncan collects me."

During their reunion last evening, with Barnabas by her side, Kathleena felt confident enough to tell the couple about her engagement, swearing them to secrecy or they would face deadly consequences. It was a long overdue account. Of course she omitted the supernatural details concerning Angelique and Barnabas, simply stating that her impending marriage to Duncan was prearranged and unwanted.

"Is there nothing that can be done to halt this situation?"

She shook her head and leaned back against the chair. "Nothing. Despite my sire's vast wealth and influence, I am still affianced. Father's offered thrice the amount of my dowry and still…" she sighed. "It isn't money he's after." Wishing to change the subject, Kathleena lowered her voice. "Barnabas told me he loves me."

The woman nodded with a smile. "Anyone can see it; he wears his heart on his sleeve for you."

She sniffed, sweeping a tear from her cheek. "I want so much to be able to return his affection."

Tierra looked flummoxed. "Oh, then you _don't_ care for him."

"It isn't that I don't, Tierra, it's that I can't. My life is not my own. Even if I were to run away and hide, I know that one day, when I am at my happiest I will open the door and Duncan will be standing there to claim me… I refuse to live like that."

"Not even for love, Kathleena? Do you plan to give yourself to this bastard? Like a sacrificial lamb going to the slaughter?" Although her words rang true, Kathleena closed her eyes against them. Gently Tierra placed kind hands over her fingers. "Forgive me, my dear. I can't possibly imagine how hard this is for you." She cleared her throat, her brow furrowed. "When I asked if you returned Barnabas's feelings, you said it's not that you didn't, it's that you can't. Does that mean…?"

With a nod, Kathleena raised her head, her pale eyes glittering with unshed tears. "Yes Tierra, I do love Barnabas Collins. That is why –" she dragged in a deep shuddering breath, "- that is why I've decided to leave. I'm going back to France. I've booked passage on _The White Swan_. She sets sail in a month. I board a train bound for New York day after tomorrow."

Tierra gasped at the shocking news. "No! Why?! If Barnabas loves you then…"

"That is why I _am_ leaving. Don't you understand? The longer I stay will make the parting all that more difficult. Especially when-" her voice trailed off and she merely shook her head.

"And Barnabas? He is simply letting you go, just like that?"

"He doesn't know, and I _forbid_ you to say anything!"

"Please! No, I can't!"

"Promise me or I swear, I'll—" her eyes flashed threateningly.

"Alright!" Tierra raised a hand." Alright." Although she thought it was completely wrong of Kathleena to go, she did not wish to jeopardize their friendship for as short as… Tears spiked long lashes and the Frenchwoman pulled her friend into a soothing hug not knowing that their conversation was being secretly overheard by Page, who had returned to the manor to collect his overlooked breeding journal.

After the evening meal, Page pulled James aside. "I shall be in the study. When Mr. Collins arrives bring him to me straightaway and, under no circumstances are we to be disturbed not even by Miss Benjamin. If _anyone_ should ask, you've not seen him this evening, understand?"

"Yes sir."

* * *

He stood before the windows overlooking the gardens. He saw no beauty this night. "When did you say her ship sets sail?

"In a month. She is to catch a train for New York day after tomorrow."

"Day after tomorrow." How was he going to convince Kathleena to stop this foolhardiness? He finally found love again and he sure as hell wasn't going to let her go now. The vampire was startled from his thoughts with an unexpected observation.

"She loves you, you know."

Barnabas whirled on his heel. "Why do you say that?"

"That's why she's returning to France. She told Tierra that if she doesn't leave now, it will be that much harsher were Fasette to come here to claim her as you watched on."

"Fasette!" How his hands ached to ship that animal straight back to Satan! He shook his head. Thoughts of vengeance would not help him keep Kathleena and she _must _stay with him. Even if…! Page noticed the sly smile spreading across Barnabas's gaunt features, his eyes crinkling in secret delight and wondered at it.

"What time is her train scheduled to depart? Do you know?"

"Yes, I checked. Friday, about half past four."

_Dammit, too early! _He would need help.

Slowly, the vampire's dark gaze slid to his, a devious light in his eye. "Page, exactly how _adventurous_ are you?"

The man was intrigued. "What's on your mind, my friend?"

Barnabas quickly revealed his intentions. "… Above all else, Kathleena is not to know that I'm aware she is planning to leave."

Page shuddered. The man was truly diabolical. "I am thankful we are friends, Barnabas Collins. I would hate to have you as an enemy." They shook hands as deep hearty laughter rang throughout the room.

* * *

He pulled her tightly against him knowing full well the answer to his forthcoming question. "Why so distant tonight, my dear?" Kathleena flicked a tear from her cheek. Instead of speaking, she nuzzled into him and kissed his mouth, outlining his icy lips with the pointy tip of her warm tongue. She smiled at him,a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. This could be the last night they have together. If so, she vowed to make it unforgettable, for both of them.

Smoothly shoving Barnabas onto his back, Kathleena sat upon his tight belly. While she gazed raptly, achingly into his dark eyes, long fingers quickly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his lean, sparsely furred chest. Lowering her head to his tiny nipples, she gently bit his flesh. He groaned arching upward as she switched from one pea sized nub to the other. Capturing his large hands in hers, Kathleena held them down, running her mouth along his jawbone and dusting his pale skin with soft nipping kisses and licks. Sliding to his throat, she mouthed him until he hissed, the image of the tearing bat entering his mind.

"Oh Barnabas," she breathed sadly, knowingly. Suddenly she trekked lower, skimming his rib cage with her tongue, placing soft kisses around his naval and deftly slipping inside. Only when he felt her hands leave his and reach for the fastenings at his waist, did he reluctantly object.

He sat up clutching her hands, "Kathleena…"

"Barnabas please," she begged, locking her gaze to his, "I want to… I need to…"

"To what, tell me?"

**_(To show you how much I will miss you when I'm gone!)_**

Choosing not to respond to her thoughts, he simply released her and lay back against the pillows. He would allow her this. She smiled as she undid his buttons, sliding his trousers past slim hips. Barnabas could feel her eyes studying him and for the first time in a very long while, he was exceedingly tense. His fists balled at his sides as she took his cold sex in her hands, long fingers wrapping around the shaft. He swelled at her warm caress.

"You are so beautiful, Barnabas," she murmured reverently. He closed his eyes as she took the tip of him into her warm wet mouth, running her tongue 'round and 'round, engulfing his length as he growled low and deep in his throat.

It was too much. "Enough!" Barnabas roared hoarsely, taking hold of her arms and pulling her tightly against him. In one swift movement, Kathleena rose up and impaled herself on his shaft before he could move to stop her and she gasped in absolute pleasure. He was so deep within her he could feel her womb. Placing her hands on his hard chest, she experimentally lifted herself and slid back down against his hips. Throwing back her head in incredible bliss, her long hair brushed against the sensitive flesh of his thighs. Unable to control himself, Barnabas growled and clutched her tiny waist thrusting up into her, fast and hard. As the thought of leaving him filled her mind, tears coursed down her cheeks. Mistaking her cries for pain, he realized too late that he was very deep within her.

"I'm hurting you."

Kathleena stared down at the alarmed expression in his beautiful eyes and shook her head wildly from side to side. "No! Mon Dieu, Barnabas! No, you're not! Please…I want more… "

_(__**As much as you are willing to give, for this moment must last me forever.)**_

His mind placated, the vampire thrust up into her as she slammed down against him. Pleasure was soon overwhelming them and the lovers reached the peak of ecstasy together. Icy seed spewed deeply into her as Kathleena collapsed limply on his chest. Barnabas smiled as he swept the hair from her damp face. She'd such an intense reaction to their lovemaking; fainting from the power of her release. Awaking moments later, she found him lovingly stroking her back.

"What happened?" Her voice was shaky, her pupils darkened and dilated.

Shrugging amiably, he smiled. "I believe you swooned with pleasure." Blushing, she slipped from his belly to lie in his arms. Hearing him sigh remorsefully, she looked at the hour. "I must leave you," he said.

Kathleena nodded. "I know."

**_(As I must leave you.)_**

Barnabas shook his head as he vanished behind the changing screen. Did she truly believe he could no longer read her mind simply because she now had the ability to speak? _Foolish one. _He thought of that moment when the train pulled away from Lancaster's station and smiled warmly. _What surprises lie in store for you, my dear!_

As he stepped up to the bed adjusting his cravat, he lifted her hand and placed a tender kiss on her wrist. "Until tomorrow evening, Kathleena." She looked so flushed, so beautiful. If only he could curl up next to her for another hour, hold her for another three. A normal man could. _Damn this curse!_ With a groan he strode to the door.

"Barnabas?"

He turned, his brown eyes traveling over her nubile form. She was glad for she had to see his cherished face once more.

He arched dark, thick brows. "Yes?"

Kathleena would commit his image to memory. "Good … good night, Barnabas," she said softly.

"You look as though you are going to cry. I shall see you tomorrow evening."

Forcing a small smile to her face she nodded. "Yes, of course."

"Good night my dear," he said, smirking knowingly as he gently closed the door behind him.

Kathleena breathed a deep sigh of relief long after he departed. "How easy you forget, Barnabas," she whispered miserably, "I need only to touch you and I know everything. Your plan _will _fail."


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

The following morning...

Exactly one half hour after Tierra and Page set off to a neighboring farm to view some stock Kathleena dashed to the stables and prepped Deidra, thankful that the stable lad was nowhere to be found. "Come girl, we must ride like the very devil."

Trampling the ground beneath him with a loud snort, Dalmiir butted her shoulder firmly, almost as if he knew what she was doing and was trying to stop her. Kathleena stroked his shiny coat. "Oh, don't look at me like that, boy, it has to be." With a sad shake of her chestnut locks, she added, on a whisper, "Please protect him." After a final pat to the stallion's thick neck and a loud sniff, she unearthed the valise she'd concealed in the hay late last night. Lashing it to her saddle, Kathleena mounted her mare and galloped toward town.

The station was humming with life, even at this early hour. Lifting her skirts, she hesitantly stepped up to the ticket master.

"Bonjour Monsieur, to where is your next train headed?"

The Irishman looked up at the elegant young woman and smiled, entranced by her youth and beauty. "She be goin' ta Boston, Lass."

Handing him the fare, Kathleena stared at the ticket he'd thrust toward her. Slowly, reluctantly she collected it. It was the right thing to do, she told herself, although her heart was tightening painfully. "Have you someone to board my horse at the livery?" Suddenly her brow furrowed as she realized her oversight. "I needs also have a message delivered to the Vogel manor, do you know of it?"

"Aye, me boyo kin do that fer ya." Peering into a curtained room behind the counter, he called for his son. "Shawn?" A young boy of twelve faithfully appeared. "Aye, Papa?" "Be a good lad an' take this wee gal's animal ta th' liv'ry an' then ride out ta Mr. Vogel's."

Hurriedly, she penned a few words. The note to Tierra and Page was brief but sincere and truly heartfelt. As for Barnabas… Kathleena shook her head, longing for what might have been. "Barnabas…" Handing the boy Deidra's reins, she patted her mare's sides. "À bientôt, mon ami."

Strolling about the station, the conductor glanced up at the huge wall clock and double checked his pocket watch. "Ahh 'board!"

With a deep sigh of regret, the Frenchwoman gathered her bag and stepped onto the train, seating herself as the piercing whistle blasted. Laying against the head rest, she sadly gazed out the window then closed her eyes.

Bound for Boston. Was it truly real? Forced to leave as she knew she must, Kathleena realized Duncan and Angelique had wounded her more than if they had taken turns knifing her repeatedly in the heart. Hot tears of sorrow slipped from beneath closed lashes as she fingered the medallion securely fastened about her neck.

"Au revoir, Barnabas."

* * *

The train traveled at a fine clip. Day turned into night, night into day. Day after day. Nothing broke the tedium. Three more days… three, and she would arrive in Massachusetts. And what sort of life would she lead there?

The conductor came by every so often to offer the passengers something from the meal basket. Kathleena shook her head. Since leaving Pennsylvania, she'd had scarcely any appetite. "Miss, you need your strength, if you don't mind me saying." Staring up into his face, she saw nothing but a sincere expression of concern for her on his weathered features.

With a sigh, she thought only to placate the man. "A cup of coffee and an apple, please," she said digging into her reticule for a few coins. Frowning, he shook his head as he pulled the items she requested. _Barely enough to keep a bird alive and here she was …_ As she handed him payment, Kathleena gasped in shock, her fingers brushing against his hand.

"You are wrong, sir!" she sputtered, "so very wrong!"

The conductor paled. "Pardon?"

"I am not expecting a child! Not now! Not ever!"

The man could only stand there, slack jawed and confused as the passengers turned and gawked at her outburst. How in God's name did she know what he was thinking? Slowly collecting himself, he moved on to other travelers.

Kathleena fumed as she took a brutal bite from her apple. How dare he?! Fate had been too cruel to her already. She couldn't imagine bringing a child into this world only to lose it when that bastard came to claim her. No, she shook her head determinedly. No, she wasn't pregnant! Looking at her reflection in the window glass, a tear slid down her cheek.

_If only...Barnabas…_

* * *

His fury was incredible to behold when he discovered she had left him. He actually shook in disbelief. "Where is she, dammit?" he roared, furiously stalking the room, his boots pounding loudly with each step.

"Boston, Barnabas. Kathleena's in Boston." This from Page. "I had to threaten to box the messenger's ears to get him to tell me. I tried to send word to you this morning but when James knocked, there was no answer. I didn't know what else to do."

The vampire growled in desperation. Last night was wonderful… too wonderful. Suddenly he froze. Kathleena planned this all along! What a fool he was! Of course she knew of his designs to meet up with her on the train. Words came to mind: '_I need only to touch you and I know everything. Your plan will fail.' _But why had he not realized it sooner?

_Angelique! That unholy bitch! _While Kathleena wore the amulet she was immune to the witch's powers. He was not!

Without explanation, Barnabas sprinted from the room to the stables and leaped onto Dalmiir's broad back. He was going to wring Kathleena's beautiful throat when he found her. My God, what if Duncan discovers her first, or worse, has already found her. He winced at the unimaginable thought.

_Boston._ _Why the hell would she go to Boston?! _

Before he could make his exit, Page met him in the courtyard. Still shuddering in impotent fury, Barnabas could but stare at the man, incredulity thickening his voice. "She left me! She left!"

"I know, my friend but perhaps this will help," Reaching into his breast pocket, he pulled out an envelope and handed it up. "I had Tierra check Kathleena's room when we discovered her missing, she found it on her bed."

He stared at the missive with sudden dread, at his emboldened initial on the parchment. Finally breaking the wax seal, he slowly opened it.

_Dear Barnabas,_

_I'm truly sorry I had to leave like this but I simply had no other choice. I know that had I stayed, it would have made the end so much harder to bear. That is why I hadn't boarded the train to New York. I knew what you were planning to do. _

_You told me that you loved me. Had my life been mine to share, I would have happily spent it with you for as long as humanly possible. You've given me some beautiful memories, made the time I have left wonderful. _

_Merci and au revoir, _

_K _

_P.S. Please don't try to find me, I beg of you. I can offer you nothing but misery. My fate was sealed the moment I was born._

With a low growl, Barnabas gave Page the paper and, leaning into the lamplight, he quickly scanned her words. "I don't understand, " he said, perplexed. "How did she realize what you had planned? We told no one." The vampire waved away his question. With a sigh, he handed Kathleena's farewell letter back to him. "What are you going to do?"

Turning Dalmiir to the direction of town, he stared wistfully into the distance. "I'm going to find her. I must! I need her so!"

"Shall I come with you?"

"No, I must do this alone."

"But what if Fasette-?" his voice trailed off, unable to say the words.

A look so full of evil, so menacing and sinister crossed Barnabas's features, Page felt the need to step away. "If he has touched any part of her, there shall be no place to run. No place to hide. I will follow him into Hell itself to reap my revenge." With that, he spurred Dalmiir into a gallop as Tierra came to stand by her beloved.

Gathering her into his warm embrace, she leaned her head on his chest, watching the determined man ride away at break neck speed. "Worry not sweetheart, he will find her. Of that, I have no doubt."

"Nor do I," she whispered.

* * *

The last train destined for Boston departed the station that evening. Four men carefully slid a simple, unadorned coffin into the cargo hold, unaware that this particular sepulcher was temporarily empty.

Barnabas stood before Dalmiir. "We're going to find her boy. We must!" The horse snorted loudly as if in total agreement. Stroking the stallion's long neck, the vampire bared his sharp fangs sinking them deep into the animal's thick jugular. Gorging himself on the beast's life giving blood, he returned to the sanctuary of his coffin. There he remained until the train pulled into the station two weeks later.

* * *

Staring pensively from the front window of his leased townhouse, Barnabas watched as hansoms jostled by in the bustling street below. Somewhere… Somewhere in this huge city... With a groan, he flung himself from the glass. His frustration grew daily. From the moment he arose in the evening, he searched for her, night after night, halting only to feed. Where could she be? Pacing, he lifted a hand to his chin.

Three months! It'd been that long since he'd arrived in Boston. If she was here, she had concealed herself well, not only from Fasette but also from him.

_Damn it!_ Why, why could he not channel her mind? "Kathleena," he cried. "Where are you?!"

No one he'd spoken to so far had seen or heard of her. Of that he was certain. With his inhuman powers, came certain abilities. He was able to determine if someone was trying to deceive him and as yet, no one had. He spared a glance at the clock. It was nearly seven. Grabbing his cloak and cane, Barnabas headed for the door. Having checked all of the boarding houses and rental properties within a several mile radius to no avail; tonight, he thought to try a different strategy. Although it was highly improbable, he would check the two bawdy houses closest to the train station. He vowed to turn this city upside down until he found her, and God help _anyone_ who stood in his way!

* * *

A/N. This is a bit of a short chapter but I thought it was revealing. Yes, Kathleena is pregnant but as of yet she doesn't know it. And Barnabas? How will he react. But I believe the most important question is... How will _Duncan_ react? Tune in to find out.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Kathleena sat on the window ledge, listening halfheartedly to the sprightly music coming from the saloon and watching forlornly as the carriages rolled by on the gas lit street below. She started when three slow knocks sounded on her door sighing with relief when two fast thumps followed. The instant someone knocked, she expected Barnabas or...

_No! Don't think about that!_ She shook her head with a frown fingering the amulet nestled securely about her throat._ They can't find you!_

"Come Gwen," she beckoned

A flamboyant but elegant red haired woman stuck her head in. "Your supper's gettin' cold, honey." At the shake of the young girl's head, she sighed stepping past the threshold. "Sweetie, you gotta eat somethin'." Gwendolyn Corson frowned as Kathleena rested her head on her knees and stared sadly up at her, so besieged with sorrow. Unable to help herself, the madame of the exclusive gentleman's salon walked over and sat beside her, throwing an arm over her shoulder. "What's wrong, Kathy? Tell me." Since the instant they'd met, Gwen felt an inexplicable protectiveness. When Kathleena secretly shared the horrendous tale of her unwanted fiancé, she decided, then and there, never to divulge the fact that the girl was renting a room, going so far as to swear her women to secrecy, threatening immediately dismissal without fail were they to utter one word against their secret boarder.

Kathleena grazed a hand across her cheek, sweeping away a fat tear. She turned with piteous eyes, "How can I go on? Why is fate forever against me? Haven't I been through enough?" As she spoke, her hands slid to her abdomen, to the barely discernible bulge.

Gwen frowned at the girl's dilemma. "Honey, what's done cannot be undone unless you choose to undo it." Lowering her voice, she confided, "Sometimes the girls here get in "trouble." I know someone who can-" As a look of absolute shock and disgust flitted across Kathleena's features at the clear meaning of her horrific words, the madame fell silent. "The baby's papa, who I assume is this Mr. Collins you've told me about, he doesn't want this child?"

Looking away, she whispered sadly, "He doesn't know."

"Kathy!"

"Gwen, it's not as if I purposely kept the truth from him, I truly didn't suspect before I left. The possibility never entered my mind." Damn that conductor, how did he know?Even when she'd missed her monthly flow, she assumed it was simply due to the stress of having to leave Barnabas so reluctantly when all she longed to do was remain by his side. However, when she missed her menses a second time accompanied with a bout of unexplained nausea, she forced herself to consult a physician who confirmed her condition. In five months' time, she would give birth. Choking back a sob, Kathleena shook her head feeling so completely helpless, so utterly alone. The hardest blow was still to come: The moment she would have to let go of her babe when Duncan found her. Dear God! How was she to bear it? Jerking at the touch of a hand on her shoulder, she startled, pulling her from such a depressing reverie.

"Honey, you might not be hungry, but I'm certain that little one is." The woman checked the time. "It's nearly half past seven. Look, there's still a hour and a half 'til the place opens. Come down and dine with me, a'right?"

"No, please Gwen. I - I can't."

"Then I'm sendin' Ronnie up with a tray and you _will_ eat, even if I have to come up and feed you _myself_."

Kathleena looked at her. Despite the woman's chosen profession, she held Gwen in high regard. A kindhearted and caring woman not only to her, but also to the girls who worked for her, she was a true, if not odd choice for a mother figure. But then, would Marie have been a better choice had she lived? She nodded with a slight smile, no doubt in her mind that the woman wouldn't carry out her threat.

"I'll eat. I swear."

"Good. Thank you. I'll check on you later."

After Gwen left, Kathleena walked to the mirror and stared at her reflection for more moments then she could count. Finally, she covered her face and fell across the bed, sobbing in despair.

* * *

Entering the stables to fetch Dalmiir, Barnabas spotted the groomsman near the tack room. He asked where the city's brothels could be found. With a knowing smirk the man nodded. "Well, there be two, gov. Th' best, by far be Madame Gwen's, 'tis across from th' saloon." He lifted his dung shovel and gestured to the huge building at the end of the street. " 'er girls be th' cleanest an' th' purtiest. Aye..." A wistful look crossed the man's face as he remembered his own pleasure found in Veronica's arms, a sweet young thing. He cleared his throat. "Th' other be near th' docks." Barnabas noticed the man's nose wrinkle disdainfully. "Wouldn't try that place unless yer lookin' ta git th' pox." He shuddered at the thought.

Flipping him a coin in thanks, Barnabas mounted his stallion, turning him in the direction of the blaring piano music coming from down the street. As the horse's hooves clip-clopped against the cobblestone, he stared up at the building directly across.

This bordello was unique as it was housed in a surprisingly diffident structure. No large terraces to extend over the street for barely clad whores to parade their services to the men below. It didn't seem to attract much attention and it was surprisingly quiet. Perhaps Kathleena was here._ Yes, she must be here!_ Tethering Dalmiir to the hitching post he stepped inside.

A small young blonde, skimpily attired, was in the large bar room overturning chairs from the tables. Immediately she turned in surprise, a look of avid appreciation slid across her heavily decorated face. Never had she seen a man dressed so elegantly. Her eyes focused hungrily on the onyx ring on his finger and the silver wolf headed cane he was continuously clenching and unclenching in the palm of his large hand. He was a prosperous gent, for a fact.

She ambled over to him, a well-practiced vivacious smile pasted on her garish red lips. "I'm sorry sir; we're not yet open for business. It's too early." Placing her small hand on the sleeve of his cloak, Veronica was surprised. Despite his haggard appearance, the man's arm was strong and firm. Her voice was low and seductive despite her tender years. "Come back at nine and I'll personally see to your requests," she purred.

Irritated with her blatant invitation, Barnabas yearned to fling the brash young woman away but he held his poise. He couldn't afford to alienate; he had to find her. "Actually, I am searching for a specific woman. Her name is Kathleena Tell."

"Kathleena…Tell?" she asked hesitantly. Inside, the whore panicked. Madame Gwen warned everyone if they spoke of their secret resident they would be out of a job. New to this profession, Veronica'd be damned if she found herself working at Shirl's on the waterfront. She wasn't about to service seamen who'd, most assuredly give her the clap. Removing her hand from him, she pulled away, avoiding his burning stare, "I'm sorry sir, but I don't recognize the name."

Sharp, thick brows gathered together, eyes as dark as a thunderstorm, Barnabas growled. The barely noticeable quiver to her voice, the averted gaze told him that she was lying. Lowering a chair to the floor he sat, resting his hands on the wolf's head walking stick he carried, pinning her with an uncomfortable glare.

Shrugging indifferently, the girl returned to her duties, determined to snub the handsome gent. As she placed the chairs around the tables however, she found he was impossible to ignore. His piercing eyes followed her closely, scrutinizing her every move. Though Gwen was close by, she suddenly felt very afraid and completely deserted. The vampire stood threateningly and Veronica couldn't take another moment. The madam will know what to do. He watched as she darted passed the bar and entered a door marked _PRIVATE, _an amused smirk sliding across his slender face.

Moments later, a tall redheaded woman entered the salon, a look of deep apprehension on her features. Forcing a smile to her full lips, Gwen approached the dark man as he focused on the doxy who scurried past and up the stairs, knocking in what appeared to be a code on the door marked with a number eight. He watched until the door opened and allowed the girl entrance. Not in a position to see the occupant slowly he turned, incensed, toward the woman standing before him.

At the dark look in his black eyes, Gwen trembled uncontrollably. Ronnie was right "Sir, I believe you were told you that we are closed. Still, how might I be able to assist you?" She had to get rid of him before the regulars started to arrive.

"Kathleena Tell... I want her."

Looking up into his handsome face, she realized with a start that customarily she would have admired his finely chiseled features. But there was something about this man that made her uneasy. Of course! This must be her vicious fiancé, Duncan Fasette. No wonder Kathleena feared him so. Gwen took a steadying breath, not feeling at all sure of herself. Still, she was able to look him squarely in the eye as she lied, "I am sorry sir. We've no woman by that name at this establishment."

His eyes narrowed treacherously. "Then allow me to speak to the owner. I am certain she is here."

"Look, mister-"

"Barnabas Collins." He bowed derisively.

Eyes widening in surprise at the unexpected name, her emerald gaze slid to the door on the upper floor, her body tense, none of which was lost on him. "Mr. Collins, I _am_ the owner, Gwendolyn Corson and I tell you, the woman you're lookin' for is _not here_." She fervently hoped that he would simply take her word for it and finally leave, though she strongly doubted this man would ever take _no_ for an answer.

Barnabas lowered his head, his eyes so black they appeared to vanish into the dark shadows of his slender face. Large hands clamped down on the handle of his cane, trying in vain to control his rage.

"I don't believe you," he hissed ominously, his voice deathly quiet.

Taking a step back the woman shuddered. Despite the aura of menace exuding from this man, she would not betray her friend. Not even to the baby's father. Straining to calm her fears, Gwen shrugged her shoulders flippantly, pleased with herself that she had done so so casually. "Believe me or not, that is your choice, Mr. Collins." Considering the conversation at an end, she turned to leave. It was the wrong thing to do.

As swift as a cobra, a hand reached around to seize the woman by the throat. Tearing at his icy fingers with her nails, he growled into her ear,"You will come with me."

With his cold breath breezing along her neck, shivers coursed down her spine.

"No," she tried to scream, but it came out as a watery gasp.

"My dear," he laughed mirthlessly, "you simply have no say in the matter. You have toyed with me for _far_ too long." Yanking her backward toward her office, the look of fear in her wild green eyes pleased him tremendously. _Good!_ Fear would make her much more accommodating. Opening the door, he shoved her roughly inside.

"Sit!"

Although she had no doubt this man could upend the solid desk with his fury, Gwen was grateful to have something, anything between them. Plopping weakly into the leather chair she massaged her neck as Barnabas placed his hands flat on the desktop tapping the band of his ring in irritation against its wooden surface. He leaned down inches away from her face. "Now. Where is she?"

The woman knew her life was dangling by a very thin line. This man wanted Kathleena. Could she, in good consciousness give her up? Would she risk her very existence to protect her friend? His intense brown gaze captured hers and Gwen tried to look away but something in his eyes held her. Smashing his fists on the desk she recoiled, her heart hammering madly in her breast.

"I shall ask one… last... time…"

* * *

A/N: I know these chapters are coming at a fast pace but when I write I am all over the place: first chapter to last chapter bouncing around working here and there. I hope you are enjoying the story and the pace. Remember, any reviews both positive and negative are appreciated :) Duncan shall be making another appearance soon. In the next chapter, I believe.

Le


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

"…Where is she?!"

The sudden sound of the door opening broke the vampire's focus and thus, his hold. She was free! Panic crossed Gwen's features as she stared over his broad shoulder.

_No!_

He'd kill anyone who stood in his way! Baring his fangs, Barnabas turned surprised to find Kathleena standing stock-still in the doorway, holding on to the door jamb to keep herself upright. Mon Dieu, Veronica was right. Barnabas! Barnabas! She gasped as a look of incredible longing spread across his face, a beloved face burned indelibly into her phenomenal memory, a memory that kept her company on long lonely nights.

"Why have you followed me, Barnabas? I told yo that there is no future for us," she whispered. "You must leave at once."

Suddenly he hissed as Gwen tried to slink from the room, unnoticed, piercing eyes turned to her.

"Stop!"

As he raised his hand, the redhead was rooted to the spot, unable to move. Her eyes implored Kathleena for help.

"No. Please. Don't hurt her. She is my friend."

Barnabas's warm gaze fell to her abdomen and he shook his head, utterly flabbergasted by such overwhelming evidence. My God! Slowly his eyes returned to her beautiful face and Kathleena could see the tears swimming in them. "You'll stay? It does appear that we've _much_ to discuss."

Blushing at such intense scrutiny, she nodded. "I'll stay, I promise, if- you free her."

Stepping in front of Gwen, he took her chin in his large hand as a warm feeling bore deeply into her very soul. "You will leave here and remember nothing." His gaze intensified. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," she whispered, entranced. "I understand."

Closing and locking the door behind her, Barnabas turned to face Kathleena, his gaze again coming to rest on the slight swell of her belly. "A baby!" he said reverently. "I never thought it possible… to create a child in my accursed state? I am dead and so I believed my seed was lifeless as well." Suddenly he raised dark brows. Although there was a smile of great pleasure on his handsome lips, she also saw the accusation, the naked pain in his dark eyes. "If I'd not come, would I have never known I was going to be a father?"

Kathleena swallowed tightly around the lump constricting her throat. "Barnabas, I- I- " There were no words. Quickly closing the gap between them, he gathered her slight body into the circle of his cold embrace. Unable to help herself, she breathed in relief, resting her head on his lean chest. She felt safe– always so safe with him.

"I tried to forget you Barnabas." Kathleena looked up and he gently wiped her tears away with the pads of his thumbs. Slowly, she lowered her hands to the place where his child grew within her. "I've made both our lives more chaotic than ever." She dropped her head in shame. "I'm so very sorry."

"No, my darling! Don't ever be sorry." He laughed aloud, the sound filling her being with pleasure. "I am happier now than I had ever thought possible! Never have I imagined how I would feel knowing I was going to be a father simply because I never thought it was possible. But now..." Taking her hand in his, Barnabas lovingly kissed her fingers. "We shall marry immediately. Our child will not be born a bastard."

Kathleena shook her head, hopeless. "No. You know that I cannot. Nothing has changed. Duncan will come for me." He pulled away and looked down into sad eyes. Was she so prepared to die that she wouldn't even fight to live? "I'll find him," he said through fangs extended in anger. "And when I do, I shall kill him. You will be free. This I vow."

"No! I will not allow you to sacrifice yourself! I know as well as you the evil of the witch. If you kill her son whether or not she cares for him, Angelique will exact her retribution. She will not stop with us, Barnabas; she will kill our child without a backward glance, taking even more satisfaction in the despicable deed knowing the child is yours." Walking woefully to the fireplace, Kathleena stared down into the flickering flames.

"Barnabas, when I… leave, you will take our baby…" she turned to him, tears in her eyes, "…and forget me."

"Never!" he roared.

"You must!"

Kathleena's heart was splitting in two. She would face the loss of both he and their child. Turning away, a tortured sob clogged in her tight throat. Gently drawing her back into his comforting arms, the vampire's big hands slid low on her belly. With a moan, she leaned her head against his shoulder and he bent down to kiss her long neck, nibbling the soft flesh.

She spun in his arms. "Oh Please!" Her voice was thick and full of desire, "Please," she whispered desperately, looking up into his gleaming eyes. "Barnabas… It's been forever since we held each other." Kathleena's hands slid up behind his dark head. Winding her long fingers in his hair, she pulled him down to the strong pulse in her throat. His icy tongue ran the length of her and she shivered at the remembered sensation.

With a fierce growl of long suppressed need, he savagely cleared the items from the desk. His hands circled Kathleena's tiny waist placing her smoothly on the surface. Locking his passionate gaze to hers, Barnabas took one of her hands and ran sharp teeth along each finger. She groaned with lust as he kissed her mouth tenderly hungrily, his tongue slipping inside to caress hers.

They could wait no longer. He lifted her skirts; she released him from his trousers. Staring into his eyes Kathleena gasped as Barnabas entered her with one deft thrust, filling her completely. He drove into her intense and reckless. She clamped her thighs about his flanks in response. Their passions consumed them like a wildfire burning madly out of control, ready to engulf them both in its molten embrace. Moments later, their hushed cries of climax filled the room.

Selflessly, Kathleena offered her throat to him and Barnabas, needing to taste of her again immediately sank his fangs deeply into her warm flesh, taking what she freely gave. A playful smile tugged at her lips as she realized he was still deeply within her. _They were one, in all ways possible!_ Ending the feed, he erased his marks and reluctantly removed himself from her sweet depths.

"Kathleena, come home with me, to Collinwood."

She saw nothing but the look of love in his beautiful eyes. She could not, _would not_ deny him. "Oui Barnabas," she whispered. "I will come with you. After our child is born however, I can promise you nothing."

* * *

The journey to Maine took a month. Due to Kathleena's pregnancy and his "circumstances" Barnabas booked a private car. They made love every night and she sat by his coffin daily, desperately trying not to dwell on her uncertain future with Duncan instead focusing on her coming child and her love for a vampire. Right or wrong, she truly did love him. When that bastard finally came to claim her, she would go to her death loving Barnabas. Duncan would never, could never take that away from her.

One day, near the end of their excursion, she felt the baby move. Exhilarated, Kathleena splayed her hands over Barnabas's child, rubbing her tummy tenderly.

"Your father will love you and care for you as I would have, darling."

She shook her head, refusing to think of leaving her precious baby. The lid of his coffin was slowly opening, dusk had come. Kathleena waited in avid anticipation for the moment she would see his handsome face. Smiling as he sat up and looked at her, love in his eyes.

"Barnabas," she whispered.

He rose from his coffin and lowered the top. Slowly, the train chugged to a halt with a loud hiss and the whistle blew. Gazing from the window, he smiled.

"Welcome to Collinsport, Kathleena."

She took his hand. "You're home, Barnabas."

He shook his head and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "No. _We_ are home, my dear." She decided not to gainsay him. For the moment, it _was_ her home.

Barnabas held Kathleena tenderly against him in the carriage as it bowled down the winding road. How different his life was since leaving a year ago. What was only meant to be a simple business trip had changed his entire reason for existing. Words could not express how deeply he loved the woman sleeping beside him, the woman who now carried his child.

Her head rested gently against his shoulder as her warm breath wafted across his neck. Barnabas pressed a kiss on top of her brown curls. She sighed, snuggling deeper into the hollow of his throat. "I love you," she murmured. The vampire froze at her declaration and then uttered a sad sigh. Asleep, she didn't realize what she was saying.

Suddenly, Kathleena raised her eyes to his and lifted her hand to his cold cheek. "I love you Barnabas. I truly love you with all my heart. I've tried to hide it for so long, to deny it, knowing he would come for me. But no longer, for I love you."

Barnabas kissed her lovingly, tenderly. She loved him! _She loved him!_ He swelled with incredible joy. Taking his hand, Kathleena kissed his long fingers, resting them on her belly. "We both love you." In that instant, their child kicked against him and he gasped in amazement. She smiled, gazing into his pale face.

The light of the moon burning brightly shone in her eyes, making them radiant. He took her quickly in the carriage. As they straightened themselves, he shook his head. "That wasn't well done. Forgive me but I can't seem to get enough of you, Kathleena."

She giggled, undaunted. "Nor can I of you, Barnabas."

Suddenly, he rapped his cane against the ceiling, startling her as the carriage halted immediately. Smiling broadly, Barnabas said: "Lo, the old house."

Kathleena gazed through the window. Gaslights lining the drive burned brightly, lightening the dark night. She could do nothing but stare, dumbstruck, as the magnificent Gregorian mansion stood majestically before her.

A dozen huge columns spanned the first and second floors, standing like sentries on the portico as they performed the colossal task of supporting the massive structure. Twin chimneys rose up from the corniced roof top. The gurgling sound of water came from a huge fountain adorned with playful cherubs as it stood before the circular stairs leading up to massive double doors.

Barnabas sat beside her and took her hand. "This is my original family home. It was brought, piece by piece on my father's cargo ships from England to America and reassembled here."

She felt him swell with pride. "It is truly breathtaking."

"It is even more stunning in the… the sunlight," he added with a frown. Sensitive to his pain, Kathleena lowered her head. "My servant, Gregory will have orders to show you about the house and grounds whenever you wish."

The door swung open and the steps were quickly lowered. "Welcome home, Mr. Collins." The driver tipped his hat to her. "Miss."

As Barnabas assisted Kathleena from the carriage, the large wooden doors parted. A man dressed in a regal uniform descended the expansive steps. "Welcome back, Master Collins," he said with his thick Irish brogue.

"Thank you." He turned to Kathleena. "Gregory, this is Mistress Kathleena Tell. She will be my guest."

"Aye, sir." The man with the reddish hair bowed. "Mistress."

She smiled shyly in greeting. "Come, the night air is a bit chilly. Let us continue on inside." Barnabas clutched her hand, carefully steering her up the marble steps.

In the bright glow of the candlelight, the servant noticed Kathleena's delicate condition. More than a bit surprised, he lowered his gaze to the floor. As Barnabas assisted her to the settee, he turned. "Gregory, some refreshments if you please."

"Aye, sir." The servant left quickly, thankful to have something, anything to do.

Kathleena glanced about the room. "Barnabas, your home is _magnifique_."

"Thank you, my dear. I hope you enjoy it here."

She watched as he hung their overcoats on a brass rack beside the front doors. "I believe you will have to explain the situation to your man. He seemed rather uncomfortable."

"Yes, didn't he?" Barnabas laughed and Kathleena giggled.

She patted the seat beside her. "Come and sit by me." As he did so, she pulled her hair aside offering her throat. "Take me," she whispered. "I want it so." Needing no further encouragement, he sank deeply into her flesh. As luck would have it, Gregory returned in that moment.

"Sir, I-"

Barnabas withdrew from her, a look of shock crossing his features. His eyes darkened as her blood ran down his chin. Kathleena turned her head to the servant.

"I -I'm I'm so sorry, I-" Gregory stammered, frozen.

Kathleena raised her hand. "No, no wait. It's all right."

Barnabas wiped his mouth with his hand. "She gives herself to me freely, without fear."

Amazed, the servant looked to her and she nodded her assurance it was true. Placing a hand on her stomach, Barnabas smiled. "Kathleena is carrying my child." The man was rendered completely speechless. "Gregory, say something," he chuckled deeply.

"Master, 'tis possible?"

"Apparently, for in four months' time I shall be a father."

A wide smile spread across the man's face. " 'Tis indeed great news, sir. Congratulations, Mistress."

"Thank you, now the coffee, Gregory?"

After the servant took his leave Barnabas raised his hands. "There, a bit awkward but explanation accomplished."

She smiled and looked at him, love shining brightly in her twinkling blue eyes. "Where were we?" she asked teasingly.

Taking her chin in his large hand, he tilted her head to the side. "I believe, if I'm not mistaken, we were right here." Lowering his mouth to her throat, Barnabas buried deeply into her warm flesh. While he drank his fill, the couple was totally unaware of the icy blue eyes transfixed, watching them through the window. Eyes filled with possessiveness, hatred and rage.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

The journey had been long and Kathleena was completely drained. As she tried to smother a yawn, Barnabas held out a hand, "Come, I will show you to your room." She smiled in thanks as he helped her climb the vast staircase leading to the upper floor. Opening a set of double doors, he stood aside to allow her to enter.

The room was warm and masculine, decorated smartly with dark greens and deep blues. A large four-poster canopy stood on a raised dais and a cheery fire roared in the hearth, offering her a cozy welcome. Shelves lined the walls filled with dozens of books: poetry, astronomy, science and the arts. She knew this was his room, his, before the curse was placed upon him, before he could only rest in the safety of a darkened coffin.

She gazed deeply into his eyes. "Thank you, Barnabas for sharing this room with me."

"You're truly welcome, my dear." He strode to a handsome armoire and opened the doors. "I took the liberty of ordering these for you."

Clapping her hands in delight at the new wardrobe, Kathleena's smile suddenly faltered, recalling his plan to abduct her aboard the train and bring her here. "You purchased these things months ago, didn't you?"

Gathering her into his tight embrace, Barnabas stared deeply into her eyes. "It matters not. You are here now, as it was always meant to be." He gave her a loving kiss and watched in admiration as she slipped from her street clothes to don a beautiful peach nightgown, sliding it past her breasts and hips, now fuller with her pregnancy.

"You're so very lovely, Kathleena," he murmured huskily. To her delight, he bent low to kiss her belly, the tender action bringing tears to her eyes.

Clearing his throat he smiled. "I've been away for far too long. Please forgive me as I have much work to do. Besides, I fear that should I stay, you will get no rest this night."

Certain he was right, she willingly slid beneath the luxurious sheets.

"Good night, _ma Cherie_," she said on a sleepy sigh.

Pulling the comforter over her, Barnabas looked down and chuckled softly. Kathleena was already fast asleep; a look of complete serenity on her beautiful face.

* * *

Shuddering and confused, she opened her eyes. Still so very tired. Kathleena wondered what had disturbed her rest. The fire had burned itself out but strangely, she wasn't cold. Something was wrong. Casting off the final dregs of sleep, she vaguely became aware of a heavy weight pressing her down, deep down into the mattress. Then she saw it - a shaft of light from the lone candle glistened from a sharp blade of steel. A lethal knife was suspended above her.

Fear forcing her instantly awake, Kathleena felt the crushing palm cover her mouth, pressing her tender lips hurtfully against her teeth. "_Duncan!_" Her scream was muffled against his powerful hand. Drawing aside the coverlet, he sneered brutally as the back of the blade slid between her breasts and ribs, down to the place where Barnabas's child grew. She stiffened as the stiletto lay there, unmoving.

_No, Mon Dieu! No this in NOT happening!_

"_Vous avez été__ assez occupé__, je vois._" (You have been rather busy, I see.) She closed her eyes as the point pierced the beautiful peignoir. _"_This is absolutely unacceptable! My "wife" shall not bear another man's bastard! Tell me, what should I do? Should I slit you open? Should we both watch as the unborn child slips dead from your womb? It only seems right," Duncan taunted cruelly. "You should have ridden yourself of it from the very start."

Although she expected his malice, she couldn't help but flinch at the images his horrific words conjured. She must stop him…to save herself. If it were only she, Kathleena would have possibly welcomed death, to finally put an end to her torment. But now she'd an incentive to live. She loved Barnabas and the babe! Twisting her head to the side, she gasped for breath, "No, wait…please…"

With a sinister chuckle, Duncan shook his blonde head in disbelief. "Do you truly think to stay my hand?" Suddenly he smiled and slowly pulled away. "Alright, amuse me… beg for your life." Glancing at the mantle clock, he turned back to her, his obsidian eyes glowing brightly in avid eagerness. "You have just two minutes. Convince me."

Kathleena knew it was useless but still, she had to try. "Duncan, listen to me," she pled feverently, "Angelique came to my room one night. She loves Barnabas, has loved him for … a very long time. He rejected her love for another and she… punished him. Having made a bargain with my mother, Marie…"

Duncan sighed, bored, as closely examined the tip of his knife. "We are engaged," he snarled. "You are telling me nothing I do not already know."

Quickly Kathleena tried another tactic. "Please, you love another. Release me and marry. I want my life! My father will give you any amount…"

He sank down on top of her. "You think this is about money, you fool?!" keeping his voice purposefully low lest he notify someone of his presence. "This is about a birthright! This is about fulfilling a destiny!"

Slowly, he raised the knife to her throat and Kathleena seized his wrist desperately. "A destiny Angelique has falsely instilled in you! Don't you understand?! She doesn't love you! She never has! She knows you wish to marry Claudette. She is perverse, using you just as she has tried to use me to cause Barnabas Collins to suffer for rejecting her!"

"Liar!" he growled, then an evil sneer spread across his fine features. "The fact is, Kathleena, that I _must_ slaughter you. It has been a constant ache inside of me. Those times, when I have marred your lovely body, only intensified my desire to end your life once and for all. And, I believe, my luck is double fold for now I shall take two lives instead of one."

Lowering the blade to her throat, he taunted, "Ahh. This seems rather familiar, does it not?" She panicked as the sharp tip pressed against her jugular vein. _The baby! No, not the baby!_

**_(Barnabas. Please, Mon Dieu! Please help me!)_**

* * *

He sat at his desk, fingers pressed against his temples. He couldn't concentrate for all of his thoughts were focused on her. Suddenly Kathleena's mind screamed out to his. She was in danger! Quickly materializing in his room with fangs extended, Barnabas tore Duncan from her with a mighty roar, slamming him against the wall so violently the plaster caved.

Although stunned, the Frenchman was on his feet in the next instant, viciously slashing the air between them. Sparing a quick glance toward the bed, Barnabas could see Kathleena there, unmoving. "What have you done to her, you vile bastard?!" He must see to her, not only for her sake but for the child's as well.

"She was mine! Mine! Do you hear?! You were not to have her!"

The vampire laughed heartily, nastily. "But I do have her, whelp and she loves me. You will never touch her again. She shall never again know your cruelty for she is mine! Always!"

Duncan, so consumed with the thought of his catastrophic failure never felt the bone crushing strength seize his wrist, never saw the knife obscenely twisting downward. Never felt it slide sickeningly into his body. Only when the man stepped away, unharmed did he notice the blade in his hand covered in blood. _His own blood._ While Barnabas had directed his actions, Duncan slit himself from waist to throat. With an utter look of astonishment on his face, he fell to the floor, his steaming entrails gushing from his body.

Barnabas dashed to the bed, searching Kathleena once, twice and once again for any signs of injuries. Nothing! No blood, no wounds! He'd arrived in time. If he had hesitated for only an instant… Shaking the horrible thought from his mind, he raised his trembling fingers to her throat. Her pulse was strong and steady. Thank God! Firmly, he took her by the arms. "Come darling, it's time to awaken. You are safe now. Open your eyes and look at me, Kathleena!"

She could feel his hands on her, touching her, pinning her down. Kathleena'd be damned if Duncan hurt her again. "No! No! Don't touch me!" She kicked out wildly, screeching madly as she tried to free herself. She would die fighting him and deeply bemoaned the loss of her unborn baby. Would it have been a boy? Would he have been as handsome as his father? Hot tears of regret slid down her cheek.

Barnabas lay over her bucking body to still her, not wanting her to harm either the babe or herself. Kathleena's eyes were open but so terror stricken, she was unseeing, unfeeling.

"Darling, no… Stop! It's Barnabas, Barnabas."

Slowly, her frightened eyes focused on his beloved features. "Barnabas?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "Barnabas! _Dieu Merci!_" Clutching him desperately against her, suddenly her hands flew to the life inside of her and a clear look of dismay crossed her face.

Immediately he sought to ease her concern. "No. The baby is fine. That bastard is well and truly dead. You are free."

"Free?" She shook her head. Kathleena had suffered Duncan's wrath for far too long. Although she wished it true, she knew he couldn't be dead. Not that simply. _Never free. Never free._ "No, it isn't possible!"

Hesitating for only a moment, Barnabas pulled away to show her the lifeless, bloodless body lying beside the fireplace. Instead of screaming in horror, Kathleena screeched maniacally, laughing in sheer relief. It _was_ over! She _was_ free! Free! Her life was hers. She was _finally_ free to love.

Or… was she? What of Angelique and her plan to use her as the instrument of Barnabas's torment? What spell will she conjure when she learns that Duncan has been dispatched to a well-deserved death?

Feeling the shiver ripple through her, Barnabas wondered at it.

* * *

He paced the length of the drawing room, pounding a fist against the mantle in frustration.

"I don't understand Kathleena, the bastard has been dead for over three months and still you refuse to wed me, why?"

Kathleena looked out the large bay window, seeing nothing but her reflection in the glass. She had no answer as she splayed her hands against her burgeoning belly. She only knew that the danger was still there, still present. She could feel it just as surely as if a dark cloud hovered directly overhead. Yes, Duncan was dead but Angelique still lurked out there, waiting for the opportunity to take away all of their happiness.

_You will be the bane of Barnabas Collins' existence. He will love you as he had Josette and when you die, it will destroy him. He will come to me… finally. How long I have waited!_

Raising her long fingers to the protective talisman about her throat, Kathleena shivered. No, she was neither free nor safe. She knew with certainty Angelique would find a way to get to her, get to them, even if she must employ mortal help. Although she loved Barnabas with all her heart and soul, she could not agree to marry until the danger was well and truly over.

"Barnabas, please…Noooo!" she wailed. He spun about. "Kathleena, what is it?" He gasped as she doubled over, her hands pressed against her stomach as a pain tore across her lower back. "The baby!" she ground out through clenched teeth. Just then, a gush of water crashed to the floor. "Surely it's too soon, some …something's wrong!"

Angelique. Was this her doing? Was this to be their punishment? To lose their babe in return for taking her son's worthless life? Immediately scooping Kathleena up into his strong arms, Barnabas carried her to the bed. "Gregory!" he bellowed.

The servant was at the door in an instant. "Master?"

"The doctor, quickly!" The man dashed off. He grasped her hands as she thrashed on the bed, the searing pain tearing across both her lower back and her stomach. Barnabas felt so powerless. "Kathleena, you mustn't fear the worst. Babes are born prematurely all the time." Successfully? He didn't know.

Another contraction took hold and she screamed long and loud. She shook her head wildly from side to side. Pouring some water into the basin, he dipped a cloth as she writhed, clenching and unclenching the sheets in her small fists. "Breathe darling," he instructed as he blotted the sweat from her brow.

"I hurt so badly."

"I know, sweetheart, I know. Just try to breathe deeply, in and out, in and out. He breathed with her. Suddenly a strong pain tore through her and Kathleena screamed, lurching up. Lifting her skirts, Barnabas gasped. Dear God! A crown of black hair appeared only to disappear a few seconds later.

"Kathleena, the baby is coming! Push, if you must, darling!" Taking a deep breath, she groaned as she tried to expel the tiny being, falling back on the pillows, gasping with the effort.

I only wish I knew what I was doing, Barnabas thought but did not say. Another urge to push struck and, taking a deep breath she pushed hard.

Suddenly the door swung open and the expectant papa nearly buckled in relief as the doctor walked in. "Thank God!"

Clasping him on the shoulder, the doctor smiled. "You're doing splendidly, Mr. Collins. Allow me to wash." With a wide grin, the man motioned with his head as he scrubbed. "Look at your child, sir."

Startled, Barnabas found himself instantly mesmerized as he stared down at the large blue-grey eyes set in the tiny pink puckered face.

"Barnabas," Kathleena panted weakly, claiming his attention. "I must, I must!"

Sending the soon- to- be father up to comfort his wife, the doctor took his place. Barnabas wound his arm around her shoulder and dabbed her face as the physician bent her knees and spread her thighs. "Alright, you'll soon have a new addition. Push, Mrs. Collins."

Kathleena froze for only an instant at being addressed as Barnabas's wife but then all other thoughts fled as the urge to push overwhelmed her. With a deep breath, she forced herself to bear down as the man slowly counted to ten. Manipulating the tiny shoulders, the infant slid quickly from its mother. A loud smack filled the room followed by a hearty wail.

"Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Collins, you have a healthy baby boy!"

A boy?! Barnabas gently kissed Kathleena's dry lips and brushed a damp lock of hair from her face. "A boy," she murmured breathlessly, an exhausted smile on her flushed features.

After cleaning the baby and swaddling him in a blanket, the man handed him to the new father. Having never held something so tiny before, Barnabas was anxious but then his son looked up at him and the fear instantly melted away. He sat on the edge of the bed as the doctor cared for Kathleena. She gazed lovingly at both father and son, her eyes shining bright with tears of happiness.

"He is beautiful," she said reverently as she stroked a finger against a soft downy cheek.

"Have you a name?" the doctor queried as he washed. "I must mark it for my records."

Kathleena looked at Barnabas, leaving the decision entirely up to him. "You've no suggestions?" She shook her head. "Jonathan. Jonathan Collins. She smiled tiredly as Barnabas handed her their son. "Jonathan Collins," she repeated, as she stared down at the little being, "A perfect name."

Suddenly the baby began to fuss as the doctor jotted information on the birth certificate. "Perhaps little Jonathan Collins is hungry," he suggested teasingly. Kathleena froze and looked apprehensively at Barnabas. _What if-? _Reading her thoughts, he nodded as he aided her to sit and watched closely as she bared a breast, both parents desperately prayed that the child would drink from her. To their utter joy and immense relief, Jonathan greedily latched on to a nipple, glutting himself on his mother's nutritious milk. When satiated, the baby drifted to sleep. The doctor motioned for Barnabas to step into the hallway.

"The birth record." He added in a hushed whisper, "I sincerely apologize, Mr. Collins. I simply assumed you were man and wife." Sadly he shook his head. "We thank you for all you've done, doctor." He placed a large stack of bills in the old man's hand. "Thank you, sir. I shall return in a week to check both mother and child." With a nod, Barnabas motioned to the stairs, "Very good, please allow my man to get you some refreshments before you leave."

When he returned, both Kathleena and Jonathan were asleep, the baby cradled securely in the crook of his mother's arm, tiny lips moving as though still suckling. Despite obvious proof to the contrary, Barnabas still could not fully grasp the fact that he was a father. How could a dead man produce a living child?

Pulling a chair quietly next to the two most cherished people in his life, he watched unblinkingly as Jonathan's little chest rose and fell with each breath. Resting his chin in his hand, Barnabas smiled sadly, praising the gods who saw fit that his son did not share his abominable affliction.

* * *

A/N. Last chapter should be coming soon. Hope you enjoyed Duncan's "demise" ;-P


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

She lay beside him soft and warm, sleeping peacefully as a large hand absently stroked her back. It was their cherished evening routine. He would love her; hold her as she slumbered, until the time he must seek out his coffin, the moment he loathed with every fiber of his being. Drawing her against his lean chest, Kathleena moaned, nuzzling deeper into his throat as Barnabas grimaced while staring up at the ceiling. The woman he loved was by his side, his month old son lay in the room just beyond and yet, he felt such a severe melancholy wash over him.

For some reason, he was troubled, apprehensive; an unexplainable fear consuming him just as it had so long ago on that night he first stood outside her room at the inn. Something was about to happen… but what? At this moment in time, when he should be elated at his good fortune, Barnabas found himself waiting for the proverbial 'other shoe to drop'.

Fingering the amulet securely fastened about Kathleena's slim throat, he scoffed as he shook his dark head. As long as she wore this, she was protected from the witch's malevolence. Turning brooding eyes into the nursery, he stared at the matching pendant suspended above his son's crib. No, Barnabas decided, it was simply his imagining. To have lived so long and suffered so much at that blonde bitch's whim, it was the vampire's understandable proclivity to fear the future. All was well. That vile bastard was well and truly dead; he could no longer harm her and Angelique herself was powerless. Now he must learn to accept the miraculous blessings granted to him without the usual inkling of foreboding. Yes… That would certainly take some time.

Sighing in her sleep, Kathleena smiled. During these special moments, when the house was quiet, their beautiful son tucked in for the night and her beloved lying safely alongside her, was the time when she truly felt her happiest. It was hers... the life she'd always wanted… always yearned for was hers... Finally!

Suddenly and without warning, a cruel image came into her mind and she bolted upright in terror, a fist stuffed into her mouth to stop the scream that threatened to erupt from her throat. Alarmed, Barnabas grasped her shoulders, feeling the violent shiver course through her as she touched long fingers against her puckered brow.

"Love, what's the matter?"

Blue eyes stared unfocused in momentary confusion, a clouded look on her beautiful face and then, her expression became one of complete dread. Paling, she dug her nails into his arm in a deathlike grip, wailing hysterically, "_Mon Dieu_, the _bébé_!"

The outright panic in her voice sent him racing headlong into the next room only to stop short at the threshold. "YOU!" Recoiling from the nursery, Barnabas shielded a hand over his eyes, a blend of blatant disbelief and extreme hatred twisted his handsome face.

"Barnabas! Where's Jonathan? Wh-?" Gaping wide-eyed, Kathleena could only watch as a phantom strode arrogantly through the doorway, a silver crucifix in one hand and her innocent child in the other. "Noooo! " she screamed, nearly collapsing to the floor in fright. "You're dead! You're dead!"

Disturbing, maniacal laughter filled the room. Certain to uphold the cross in his rival's direction, Duncan glared viciously at the object of his hatred. "Did you truly believe I was incapable of returning? Evidently you have misjudged Angelique and her powers of restoration." Eyes narrowed in contempt, he snarled, "_Est-ce que vous m'avez-vous cru réellement marcheriez simplement loin et te permettriez de vivre 'heureusement pour toujours'?" _(Did you actually believe I would simply walk away and allow you to live 'happily ever after'?) "There is still an unfinished issue between us, is there not?"

Suddenly Jonathan began to fuss and Duncan stared down, sneering darkly at the wriggling child. While Kathleena's blood turned cold in fear, Barnabas growled deeply in his throat. "Release my son, you vindictive bastard." He roared in impotent rage. As long as that damned whoreson held the holy artifact, he could do naught to defend his family.

The pair watched on in incredible agony as a hand slid the sharp stiletto from his waistband, placing the deadly point against a plump little neck. Unable to stomach the savagery directed toward the innocent boy, his mother cried out, "No… Wait! What must I do? _Mon Dieu_, what must I do to free my _bébé_?!"

Leering in triumph, Duncan tossed his blonde head. "Take his place."

Shuddering at the threatening consequence of his words, Kathleena knew she had no other choice. She must obey his commands if Jonathan was to have any chance at all. Gazing into beloved eyes, eyes so filled with sorrow and helplessness, she flashed Barnabas a sad smile of acceptance. Suddenly, a surge of courage flowed through her as she stared Duncan in the eye."I am not an _imbécile, _release him!_" _

Shrugging dispassionately, he callously dropped the infant on to the coverlet. He'd no use for the child anyway. It was she he wanted, only she… always she…

Seething in rage, she slowly made her way to her adversary's side.

Growling low in his throat, Barnabas knew… simply knew… _Calm yourself! Your chance will come!_

Only when a vicious hand struck out to yank the amulet from her throat did Kathleena protest, thrashing wildly against him; her body briefly concealing the cross from view.

"_FASETTE!" _Capturing Duncan's attention, the vampire vanished in the next instant.

Tossing the medallion to the bed, the Frenchman clutched her bucking body tightly against him, the knife pressed to her throat. "I knew it!" he crowed, snickering in her ear. "Do you still believe Collins loves you, bitch? _Le lâche_ (The coward) has left you to fend for yourself!"

"Not likely, you vile bastard!" A deep, incorporeal voice vibrated the room.

As the gaunt figure suddenly rematerialized before the pair, Kathleena took advantage of the madman's surprise, slamming the knife away. Impulsively, Duncan backhanded her with such brutal force, she cried out tumbling across the bed, her head striking the stone hearth with a sickening crack.

"No!" Seething in unimaginable fury, the vampire hissed though gritted fangs as he clutched his foe by the collar, smashing his head against the ceiling. Tossing him to the carpet, he scowled as Duncan struggled to slither away like the evil viper he was. Clutching the dagger glistening brightly in the firelight, Barnabas jerked the man by the hair, baring his throat. Chuckling maliciously, he goaded, "Where's your_ mother _now?!" In an instant, Duncan's blonde head was severed from his shoulders; the body lurching violently as the nervous system slowly ceased firing.

"Come to me, Angelique!" he screamed to the rafters, shaking the bloody skull. "I command you to come to me, witch! Let us finish this! Once and for all!"

A sinister laugh encompassed him as she stepped from her spectral mist, casting a narrowed, dispassionate glance at the lopped off head of her son dangling from a large onyx ringed hand. "So, you have butchered him _again_, have you? And yet, he has not died in vain." At the baffled expression in his dark gaze and furrowed brow, the sorceress laughed, pleasure pouring over her. "I told you long ago, Barnabas Collins…we were always destined to be together! Had you not spurned my love, you would not be as you are now, Josette would not have perished on Widow's Hill, running from you in terror, nor…" with a callous wave of her hand, she gestured toward the young woman lying motionless against the marble tile. "…would she be dead now. I would never have had to engage Duncan to kill her."

_No! _Falling to his knees beside Kathleena, Barnabas felt for a rhythm in her throat, her wrist. There was nothing! Turning her gently onto her back, he noticed the massive bump on her temple. The severe blow struck her dead on impact. Although he knew it was true, his soul refused to accept what his mind was telling him.

"No, sweetheart," he implored tapping her face. "No, darling, don't leave me! It's Barnabas, Barnabas!" Beneath his long fingers, he could feel the flesh cooling despite the warmth of the room. Shaking his dark head in disbelief, he moaned clutching her lifeless body against him. No she's not dead! She can't be! Not after he'd allowed himself to love again. Fuming in irrepressible rage, Barnabas gingerly reluctantly lowered Kathleena to the floor and rose to stand before the beautiful blonde. At once, the astute enchantress became instantly apprehensive. Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he glowered into piercing blue eyes.

"You had the power to restore your blackguard of a son," he hissed. "Restore her! Allow her to live again."

Thinking to automatically refuse, a venomous smile began to slowly spread across her full lips, brightening Angelique's entire outlook. "And if I do… what shall I receive in return?" she purred, a sickeningly sweet voice that turned his stomach. Had he the ability to do so, he would have vomited in her face. She had him… finally! And the best part of all…he knew it!

"Me." Barnabas whispered; anguish robbing his voice, "you will have me." For a fraction of an instant, the witch felt great resentment wash over her. Resentment directed toward the woman and her child. To sacrifice himself to save them, he truly loved Kathleena completely.

Angelique hissed, distrust clearly evident in her voice. "And exactly _why_ am I to believe you are sincere?"

Now he must explain? Was there no limit to this woman's monstrous cruelty? Barnabas's eyes narrowed. "Once I am gone, my son will need his mother, for he will no longer have a father to love and protect him." Suddenly dark eyes flew to the forgotten object that rested besides little Jonathan's body obscured from view.

Perhaps! Yes…perhaps! "Well, what is to be your answer?" he growled tersely.

Blue eyes glittered with barely contained victory. "I happily comply."

"Of that… I had no doubt." Although he knew her answer, he had to try. "Now, bring her back!"

Angelique chuckled insanely. "Do you think me a complete fool, Barnabas? Once we are husband and wife, I will raise Kathleena from the dead... not _one_ moment before," she added, when he made to rebuke her decision.

Sighing sadly, he reluctantly acquiesced. "I must ask that you allow me a moment to bid my son a final goodbye." Tapping her foot irascibly, she waved the vampire off. Finally winning the prize she'd sought for so long, the witch decided she could afford to be a little compliant. Besides, her one consolation was the knowledge that he would see neither Kathleena nor their child ever again.

As he lovingly gathered the wriggling infant into his arms, Barnabas secretly seized the amulet Duncan had mistakenly tossed beside his son's chubby little body, concealing it in his sleeve. Placing a kiss on the tiny dark head, he whispered, "Have no fear. I shall never leave you."

Watching the father lovingly lay his child onto the bed, Angelique growled, wondering if she would ever bear him a child of their own. "Aren't you finished yet?" she snapped, fuming with bitter jealousy.

Scowling, Barnabas forced his features to calm as he touched her arm. "Wait, my dear," he nearly choked on the words, "You have finally won the prize you had sought for so long…isn't that correct?" Stunned that her thoughts were voiced, Angelique's savage blue eyes narrowed warily. "Well, then please allow me to bestow upon you your award!"

As the witch gasped in shock at the sight of the hated medallion held before her, the vampire crammed the trinket into her open mouth, marveling as her mortal coil was shed, instantly replaced by her true form: a serpent of epic size. The room began to quake as the creature twisted and shuddered; the talisman wrapped about its poisonous fangs. The enchantress was caught in the painful throes of its long deserved destruction.

Fearing the coming magnitude of Angelique's violent demise, Barnabas grabbed Jonathan from the bed and covered both he and Kathleena with his own body in an effort to shield them.

The end was a rather short-lived and somewhat insipid affair; not at all what he was expecting. With a last piercing screech and painful twist of its body, the monster simply vaporized, leaving nothing behind but the peculiar green haze with which Angelique was closely identified.

Gathering Kathleena into his arms, Barnabas laid her on the bed. Bellowing for Gregory, he scooped up the baby and placed him in the nursery.

"M-Master C-Collins?" the servant stammered, his eyes round as saucers.

"Kathleena, she's… hurt..." He choked on the lie, but if something could be done, _anything_… "Fetch a doctor." He stared at the clearly flabbergasted man frozen at the threshold. "Gregory, what's wrong with you? The doctor… hurry!"

Furious, Barnabas growled as he came at the Irishman, stopping as he stepped into a pool of the brightest light he'd ever witnessed. immediately he understood the man's shock. Dear God! The _SUN! _

"Noooo!" he screamed, covering his eyes. Then the mantle clock chimed the hour. Dawn had broken and he was…alive… _Alive! _Angelique was dead and with her destruction, the curse had lifted. "Kathleena!" he gasped, smiling widely. "I am free! We…"

Barnabas flew to the bed, jubilant thoughts of his long wished for freedom quickly vanished. "No," he sobbed clutching her small icy hands in his now warm fingers. "Please, Kathleena," he begged, his heart breaking. "Please, come back to me. I need you. Jonathan needs you. We can have a long happy 'normal' life ahead of us." Closing his eyes, Barnabas foolishly attempted to will her to return. He no longer had the extraordinary powers he once laid claim to; even if he had, she was immune. Always immune.

Brushing the hair from her face, he gazed at her still body. Lowering his dark head, he kissed her cold lips, lips that had turned a soft grayish color. Finally, he broke completely hot tears coursing down his cheeks and splashing onto the pale skin of her neck and chest.

Despite his enormous grief, Barnabas sniffed the air, his brow furrowed. He sniffed again at the now overpowering scent of..._ Jasmine! No, it can't be!_

In the next instant, Barnabas bolted upright as a familiar melody gently tinkled in the air. Turning his attention to the window, he was amazed to see a figure materializing in the beam of light.

"Josette," he whispered, lest he frighten away the apparition. "Josette."

"Oui mon cher, I have returned, but just for a moment." The specter smiled knowingly into his remember, beloved eyes. "Angelique has finally been destroyed, hasn't she?"

Speechless, he could only nod, as Josette softly padded to the bed where he and Kathleena lay. "You'd found someone to love you as you were, cherie. Something I could not do, despite my love for you."

Barnabas closed his eyes. "And like you, she is dead." A sob caught in his throat. "Anyone I dare to love is doomed. I am responsible for her death... Just like..."

The ghost shook her head and went to place a hand on Kathleena's body when a shrill cry startled her. At her elegant eyebrow raised in question, Barnabas sadly rose and strode into the nursery returning with the infant in his arms. "My son, Jonathan."

Josette gasped. "Your… son?"

With a nod, he watched as the ghost's body began to flicker and twinkle before him. "Barnabas, my time grows short and I must leave. I came to offer you a choice, a second chance, as they say. Angelique took away all of our happiness, our love." Turning to the woman lying dead on the counterpane, she continued, "I can inhabit Kathleena Tell. She can live again and through her, we can be together. Have the life and the family we were denied for so long by a hateful witch and her evil curse."

Staring at the apparition for more minutes than he could count, he weighed the offer in his mind. Biting his lip, he slowly shook his dark head, a loose curl falling into his eyes. "I'm sorry—"

"No, Barnabas. No. You needn't say a word. I understand. You love her too much." Suddenly, the ghost looked down at the child, smiling as the infant cooed at her. "As I've said, I offer you a choice."

Confused, he watched as Josette gently strode to the bed and placed one hand on Kathleena's heart and the other on her head. "You have suffered so much in your lifetime, Barnabas Collins. A lesser man would have broken under the trauma. You are truly worthy of the love you have found and therefore, I restore her to you. It is my final gift to you and your son for I am unable to return again. Love her... Protect her... _Never_ take her for granted.."

"…_Never… Never…"_

He stood mesmerized as Josette drifted toward the bright beam of sunlight and gently faded away. It was like a dream. Was she, in fact, here at all?

He felt a hand brush against his Bastille shirt. "B-Barnabas?"

Astonishment and incredible relief flooded him as he knelt beside the bed. "Kathleena?! My Darling!" Barnabas clutched her hand, still cold, but quickly warming. "My God!" He kissed her face, her eyes, her warm pink lips.

Suddenly she gasped and he followed her pale gaze to the sunlight streaming throughout the room. "I am free, Kathleena, Free! Angelique is completely destroyed as is Duncan and…" He saw her brow furrow. "What?"

Shaking her head, she closed her eyes and placed her hands on her son's little body and then on his beloved face. "My curse, too, has ended with Angelique, for I can no longer sense your thoughts, your feelings."

Gathering her into his strong embrace, Barnabas kissed her soundly until Jonathan squirmed between them. Laughing aloud he said, "You needn't possess a rare ability to know my thoughts and my feelings, Kathleena. You and Jonathan are my life. I shall love you until I cast off this mortal body and even then I shall love you beyond the grave." Suddenly there was a knock on the door and he handed her their son. "That must be the doctor."

As Kathleena smiled down at her boy, she absently asked, "Barnabas? What _did_ happen while I was unconscious?"

His hand on the knob, he turned back to her. "It matters not. We had the courage to stand for our love and we've won."

"Come in, doctor…"

* * *

5 years later...

Kathleena writhed on the bed, as Barnabas mopped her brow. "It never gets any easier does it, love?"

"No!" she growled, gritting her teeth as she panted through another painful contraction.

Barnabas held her hand, wincing at the strength in her grip as she crushed his fingers. Hoping to distract her, he said, "Jonathan came into the drawing room last night while I was reading. He swore we are going to have a girl. He said he wants to play "pirates" and needs a prisoner to 'walk the plank'."

Tears came to her eyes as Kathleena thought of Pierre. **(****_Thank you, brother! Protect him!)_**

Barnabas stared at her. "Did you say something, sweetheart?"

Despite the pain, she laughed. "No, Barnabas. I said nothing at all." She screamed as another contraction tore through her.

"Alright, this is it!" The doctor encouraged. "Push, Mrs. Collins! Push!"

Kathleena smiled. This time she truly _was_ Barnabas's wife. With one last effort, the infant slid from her loins and a quiet cry filled the room.

"Congratulations! It's a beautiful and healthy girl!"

The pair laughed as an exuberant lad dashed in, matching Barnabas in dark looks except for crystal blue eyes. Quickly, his father swung him high into the air.

"Was I right, Papa? Was I right?" Jonathan asked anxiously, "Is she a girl?"

"Right as rain, my boy, although it might be a few years before she can go 'walking the plank' for you."

Kathleena smiled charmingly as she watched her child brush a dark lock of hair from his face. Father and son… so alike in so many ways. The doctor handed her their beautiful new daughter.

"What's her name?"

Looking up into Barnabas's handsome face, he merely shrugged with a passive gesture. So it was up to her was it? Gazing down into the tiny pick face and rose colored lips, the moniker suddenly came to her. Somehow it fit. Her blue eyes returned to her husband, her lover, her mate for life.

"Her name is Josette. Josette Collins."

Barnabas smiled down at her and then to their little girl.

"Josette Collins," he repeated. "A perfect name." Closing his eyes, Barnabas turned his face heavenward.

_Thank you!_


End file.
